


Call and Response

by MundyBundy



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2716298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MundyBundy/pseuds/MundyBundy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scout's brother passes away and the team takes a cross country trip to get him to the funeral. Along the way he realizes just how close he's become with his team and what they mean to him. It's a sort of coming of age story for Scout with appearances by some of my favorite pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do have a tendency to go off on tangents, but the story does have a point, I promise. It just makes getting there more fun! I will be using names every so often in the story as characters become closer, I'll put a list of who's who somewhere.

 

On this particular day in Teufort, the weather fancied itself a rather hot and dry summer afternoon. A cloudless sky with a slight refreshing breeze left the base only slightly warmer than could be considered comfortable, which was a welcome surprise for the overworked mercenaries.

Said mercenaries, however, were currently enjoying a small furlough, and during the time of day that would usually house gunshots and violence they were busy enjoying themselves in whatever ways they saw fit.

 

 

From down in the infirmary and operating theatre, the softest echoes of a violin could be heard only slightly louder than the even fainter cooing of a dozen or so doves that resided in the base alongside the hardened killers. White plumage drifted down from the rafters where the birds sat contently, listening to the delicate song, and settled on the cement floor in a way that could hardly be sanitary for an infirmary.

  
A resin coated bow slid across expertly tuned strings, producing an arrangement already familiar to those living in the sprawling wooden base.  
It provoked feelings of relaxation and well being, the simple tune that wasn’t particularly fast, but wasn’t a creeping, drawn out ballad either. The perfect pacing for a day where you had all the time in the world and nothing to do with it.

  
In addition to the audience of snowy white doves, an overlarge man sat at the resident Medic’s desk, disassembling his shotgun at his leisure, cleaning the parts thoroughly, and putting it back together while listening to the performance. The other man standing just a few feet away, fingers nimbly moving from one placement to the next, thanks to half muscle memory, half concentration, was the previously mentioned Medic.

  
His dark hair was combed and styled precisely the way he liked it, greying only on the very edges of his trim sideburns, and coming to a decisive curl on his forehead. In his youth, a cowlick had thwarted attempts to style his thick hair, and only through trial and error was he able to find an acceptable look. Now all it took was two minutes and a good comb and he was good to go for the day.

Located beneath his hairline and after his forehead, are his equally thick eyebrows, maintained only the necessary level, and with a pair of well earned frown lines between them which were currently absent from his relaxed features.  
His nose is roman in shape, large- but not off putting, and has a pair of black, wire rimmed glasses sitting atop it, granting him a studious look.

The Medic is an orderly man, he keeps his belongings neat and believes that everything has it’s place. There is never any clutter in his office or room and it bordered on a compulsion. The few exceptions he has for his rules are for his beloved birds, who never seemed to listen to him anyways, and for his surgeries which were messy to begin with. The gory carnage always left him feeling a strange sort of high, a release of pressure that he, as a physician, deemed completely healthy.

The song should have ended minutes ago, and now the Medic was just biding his time, playing random constructions he put together as he went, which required just a tad more concentration that the previous song had allowed, but held more challenge.  
The other man in the room had finished reconstructing his gun, and set it down on the table, opting to just lean back and enjoy the rest of his private performance instead of repeating his task a second time.

 

The Heavy Weapons Expert is a massive man, not only physically, but in regards to his personality and intelligence as well- if you choose to look past his intimidating features in order to see those. He has a wealth of knowledge and is an excellent story teller, he demands attention the moment he enters a room, and can always make people laugh. Unfortunately, as English was his third language after Russian and Italian, he could never fully express his thoughts in the language, and would come off sounding dimwitted and slow.

 

It was still early enough in the day where, if you were to brush past the larger man you might catch a hint of his sage and sandalwood aftershave, a light and masculine scent. He didn’t groom himself extensively, he was never one for excessive pride or vanity, unlike the team’s Spy, who groomed himself more often than a cat.

 

The infirmary was located in the basement of the military base, which meant it was the only room with cement floors in the building, which was a plus,but it also meant that the room got unbearably cold during the desert nights and winters. For right now though, the temperature was perfect and the small windows close to the ceiling of the lab were thrown open, letting in fresh air and enough light to where the artificial laboratory lighting could remain off.

The music concluded with a small portion of a piece that the Medic himself had composed and perfected over the years. The energetic, allegretto section of the song was where he ended it for today, drawing out a long harmonic note and then silence.

  
In the absence of his music the base seemed to devour all sound, even the doves stayed quiet for a moment, before returning to their usual soft coos.  
The Heavy brought his massive hands together and gave a standing ovation to his companion, grinning as he did so. The man brought the instrument down from it’s position and stretched his neck and arms out to relieve his stiff muscles, while smiling brightly at the applause.

 

  
“Vhy thank you, Schatz,” He said, and went to the table where his case lay to put away his beloved violin. He had owned it since his teens, bought it with money from his first job at a pet store where he got to feed the snakes and take care of the birds. If it weren’t for the smell, and the fact that he only liked experimenting on humans, it would have been perfect.

“Gets better every time I hear it,” Heavy compliments, starting to remove his supplies and weapon from the table, now that the concert was finished. “It is just like Doktor. More and more beautiful every day,” He said, glancing over to the Medic to see if his flattery had an effect.

The man had busied himself with putting away his instrument, but as soon as the words were processed through his head he looked up at the other amusedly. Heavy was without a doubt the more vocal one about their relationship, he was very proud of it in fact. That’s not to say that the Doctor wasn’t. He loved that on cold nights on the base, while everyone was in the rec room watching a movie on the small black and white television set the team owned, that he could crawl into the giant’s lap and lay against his warm chest until he inevitably dozed off. He enjoyed being able to hold his hand as they ate breakfast across from one another, worrying his thumb over the other’s massive knuckles. Signs of affection were important to him, and the Heavy was more than willing to give those to him. But he also took everything with a grain of salt, where it seemed that the giant took everything to heart. In short, the Medic found dramatic declarations of love and devotion, rather funny at most times.

“How sweet of you to say Liebling,” He managed with only a smirk. The Heavy frowned, maybe even pouted, but only slightly. He knew the Doctor was just humoring him, and although it was expected, the Heavy would like it if he showed at least some compassion through words. Even though he knew it wasn’t true, sometimes it could feel like their relationship was purely physical.

At the dejected look, the Medic smiled fondly, much in the way you would at a small child. He slid around the desk and closer to his massive companion, placing a hand on his chest and moving it up his neck to cup his strong jaw. “Misha, I am barely comparable to the melody of a violin, especially vone played as superiorly as my own, but thank you,” He offered as a response, and the Heavy smiled, rolling his eyes at the burst of ego that was typical of his Medic.

“Da, you are right. I should make violin lover instead, much better choice,” He said, smirking. The Medic laughed at that and squeezed his cheek playfully while the Heavy’s arms came around him lightly, resting on his hips.

“Vhat a strange man, I don’t know vhy I find you so charming,” He said, then he leaned up to press a kiss to the Heavy’s jaw.

Heavy cupped his lover’s face and turned it so he could return the kiss in full, and it pleased him to feel the Medic smile against his lips.

Above the couple, doves cooed happily, discussing the pair and their odd mating rituals while throwing a few more feathers into the air. Archimedes noted smartly that the giant man always gave them extra bird seed when he helped feed the doves, so whatever bizarre courting he used on the doctor was acceptable.

But the doctor and his lover weren’t the only ones taking advantage of the time off...

Across the base, in one of the laboratories that housed the garage, the Engineer of the team was laid back on a rolling gurney underneath a van the team had acquired recently, doing some much needed maintenance.

All of the windows and even the garage door were opened to let in the outside air and sunlight. In the streams of light you could watch the dust floating around lazily, which is what the Pyrotechnics Expert of the team was busy doing while his boyfriend serviced the van. He was lying on the workbench, swinging his legs absentmindedly and spacing out to some Bob Dylan song that the Engineer was humming along to from where he worked, and trying not to fall asleep. He wasn’t bored, he really enjoyed relaxing like this while he could, especially in the company of the man he loved. But he was just so comfortable, and the room was so warm…

A loud bang from a dropped wrench woke Pyro from his daze with a start and he lost his balance on the bench. His arms flailed momentarily and he rolled right off the bench and onto the floor with a thud. It wasn’t a far fall, but he groaned in annoyance.

“What in sam hell… Py, did you just..?” Engie rolled out from under the van to throw his boyfriend a look. He was wearing his usual goggles and overalls, his plain white undershirt stained with grease and sweat from the day. It was a rugged look that suited him well.

From his position on the floor, Pyro just sighed and made no move to get up. “Nrr.” He denied, happy the other couldn’t see his face that was probably bright red with embarrassment. “Yuh suhr nrrtrnn,” The Engineer laughed for a while, long enough for Pryo to get up and dust himself off, then to put his hands on his hips and look at Engineer in a way that made him feel only a little guilty for laughing. “Aw shoot, darlin, you gotta admit that was pretty funny,” He said and sat up from the gurney, moving his goggles up and rubbing at his eyes.

The two of them were definitely an odd pair, but the firebug had taken to Engie almost immediately after they started working together. The friendship grew into something more meaningful not long after the Pyro was comfortable enough to lift his mask enough to eat and drink around him. They talked for hours after that, since it was so much easier to understand him without that mask over his mouth. He still never succeeded in getting him out of the suit entirely, but once in a while in the dimmest of light, Engineer was allowed to see his whole face. He felt blessed to be given that, knowing how self conscious Pyro is, and took every opportunity to remind him how beautiful he thought the boy was.

“Rrkuh, mrrbur err lrrdll brrt frrnrh,” He conceded. Engineer got up and walked over to him. He was a few inches shorter than Pyro, but much broader and more muscular.

“Yeah, only a bit,” Engie smiled crookedly in the exact way Pyro loved, white teeth flashing proudly. “What do ya say we pack up shop for the day an’ head down to the mess? I’ll whip up somthin’ good,” The Engineer was already wiping his hands off on a hankerchief from his pocket, which he also used to mop up any sweat and grease from his forehead before shoving it back in the overalls.

  
Pyro nodded enthusiastically, jumping up and down excitedly. Engie made the best food, his southern cooking was always filling and delicious. The firebug clapped and spun around once or twice, then he unlatched his gasmask from the rest of his sit and pulled it up to his nose. The skin was scarred and gnarled in places, his full lips which must have been very handsome at some point were chapped and cracked. Not only that but the visible skin was so pale, almost white, with some freckles from his cheeks standing out in contrast. Engineer always made a point not to stare for too long, he knew how uncomfortable Pyro got.

  
He was pulled in for a kiss and the rough skin of Pyro’s lips were all but foreign at this point, and he savored every moment of the encounter. Having a boyfriend who wears a gasmask and full body rubber suit all day made it incredibly difficult to get kisses. Engineer’s hand went to the back of his head, and he stepped closer so they were nearly touching.

  
Pyro was the first one to pull away, smiling with a set of straight white teeth that Engineer never would have believed him to have before they got together.  
“Can you make me a grilled cheese Engie?! Please make me a grilled cheese! With extra cheese, and tomatoes too!” He said excitedly. Engineer loved his voice, so different from the muffled sounds that usually came from him. It was young sounding, not childlike, but it held excitement and youth. It was also a little raspy, most likely due to smoke inhalation. The texan laughed at his love’s excitement, nodding.

  
“Of course I can, anything you want darlin,” And to that the Pyro smiled again, revealing a dimple on one side of his mouth. He leaned in and pecked Engie’s cheek before pulling the black mask back down over himself.

  
“Trnks Erngrr,” He said and grabbed his human hand, tugging the Engineer along to the mess, deciding that he didn’t want to wait to clean up, and that he wanted his grilled cheese now. The two walked out of the garage, hand in hand and talking animatedly about what ingredients can and can not go in grilled cheese.

In the mess hall, the team’s Sniper and Scout were waiting on slices of toast to pop up from the toaster, talking about the more recent comic books they’ve read.  
“Nah, I’m not really into all dat dark and moody crap Batman goes on about all the time. But the Flash? Hell yeah, now ya talkin! He’s fuckin awesome man, I mean, naturally he gets all the ladies, bein’ tha quickest guy around does that to ya.” He said and crossed his arms with a grin, puffing up his chest in a ‘tough’ way. The Sniper raised an eyebrow behind his aviators, giving a short laugh through his nose.

  
“Yeh? Well, I wouldn’t go ‘round introducin yourself as the ‘quickest’ guy out there, Scout. Moight have the opposite effect to what you’re lookin for.” He said, and Scout stuttered for a moment, going red faced.  
“W-Wait a sec, hold on that’s not what I meant-”  
“Roight. Suuuure it wasn’t. I totally believe ya. Mmhmm.” He watched amusedly as Scout only got more flustered.

The Sniper was usually a solitary man. It took him months just to speak to another member of his team, and he only did it out of necessity. Back home he had no need for human interaction, just him and his rifles living in the outback, spending the sweltering days hunting and the nights cooking what he managed to kill over a fire, watching the stars cross the sky.

  
Growing up while being so different from all the other kids in his school had left him socially awkward with no desire to seek out friendships. Being in a base full of other socially awkward killers, he should have known that sooner or later someone was bound to sympathize with him and try to befriend him.

  
First it was the Heavy who approached him, inviting him to drink with the rest of the team in celebration of a victory. He accepted the invitation warily but ended up getting along wonderfully with the others, in particular the Demoman and Engineer. The Sniper wasn’t a great storyteller, he would begin and then drift off on a footnote and lose his train of thought, especially when he was drinking. He did however, have an endless supply of one liners and jokes he memorized from a book in a ditch effort to make friends in his youth. He didn’t say much, but when he did speak, it was worth it.

To him, Scout is like a younger brother that he didn’t want. He is the brother that barges into his room and steals his things. He has no filter and says whatever is on his mind, and never stops talking after that. If you want him to shut up, give him a cookie and send him off on a scavenger hunt for something that doesn’t exist. Sniper once got the whole team to pretend they were playing hide and seek and over three hours later Scout fell out of the ceiling rafters asking if he’d won. But while he was endlessly annoying at times, Scout was also so innocent it hurt. Sniper couldn’t help but feel some affection for a kid half his age who sets up a prom in the middle of a base to impress a girl he likes. The way Scout talks about his brothers makes Sniper feel like he’s met the men, and the way Scout grins when he talks of them warms the assassin’s heart. He sees it in everything he does, Scout is self conscious and confident at the same time. He is impulsive and energetic. There’s something about him that has grown on the Sniper, and he still didn’t know exactly what it was.

 

The toast popped up and they both turned to it. Scout threw Sniper a dirty look before going to put his on a plate and butter it until it was nearly dripping. Sniper was much more liberal with his toast, and he silently wished for a little bit of Vegemite to slather on his piece.

Engineer and Pyro walked in and greeted Sniper and Scout with a wave, receiving a muffled greeting from Scout, who had toast stuffed in his mouth, and a nod of acknowledgement from Sniper. They let go of eachother’s hands and Pyro went to sit at the table as Engineer got out the stuff to make grilled cheese.

  
“Scout, now I’m sure that lovely mother of yours taught you better than to eat like an animal and talk with your mouth full,” Engineer chided, and Scout shrugged before swallowing his massive mouthful of food.

  
“Can it Engie. What my Ma don’t know won’t hurt her,” He said and belched. Sniper rolled his eyes behind his glasses, nibbling on his toast and thinking back to when his mother made him chew every bite twenty times before swallowing for a whole week as a punishment for stuffing his mouth full at dinner.

  
“Why Scout, I do hope your mother does not happen to find out from an anonymous source zat her son has been acting like a neanderthal in front of his coworkers. What kind of a roguishly handsome monster would do zat to you?” Scout jumped when from behind him a voice emerged.

“Aw go to hell Spy,” He moaned, and the mask clad assassin appeared in a ripple of air and smoke. Showmanship was seemingly a priority of the Spy’s.

“Good afternoon gentlemen,” he said, and moved gracefully from his spot to take a seat at the table. He almost never ate with them, and he never ate a lot. The only things he was usually seen putting into his body were cigarettes and liquor.

It was known on the base that Spy and the Scout’s mother were in a committed long term long distance relationship where Spy would spend his vacations at Scout’s childhood home, helping make things uncomfortable while his mother refused to take any of his money and also helped in making things uncomfortable. All around, Scout was unhappy with the situation and dreaded going home for the holidays.

Engineer was finished with one sandwich, and put it on a plate while he cooked one for himself. He would bring them to his room so Pyro could take his mask off in comfort and they could talk over their meal. “So, Where is the rest of our team today? If the time’s right Soldier is on his run still, and Demo is most likely hungover,” He hypothesized.

Scout was balancing two forks on the edge of a cup, but also trying to pay attention to the conversation. “Yeah Yeah, and Doc and Fatso are probably screwing eachother by now, so there’s everybody accounted for,” he said and was promptly smacked upside his head with a spatula.

  
“Boy, you better stop it with that kind of talk, what did I tell ya last time?” Engie sounded exasperated. Scout yelped and rubbed his head, throwing Engie a dirty look. Sniper and Spy both snickered at Scout’s cry and watched the exchange with interest.

  
“Hey! I got nothin against ‘em. You know that! They can fuck all they want, I’m just saying that’s where they ar- Ouch!” He screamed again as he was hit. “Geez, Engie, Alright, I get it, chill man.” He grumbled.

Suddenly, the only telephone on the base, the one mounted on the kitchen wall, started ringing. Sniper stayed put, he didn’t want to talk to his parents if it was them, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone else either. Scout was too focused on his balancing, and Engie was too busy cooking. He told someone to get it before they hang up and Pyro went to answer it, but Spy got there just before him.

“Hello? Ah Hello ma petite choufleur, to what do I owe-.... Linda? What’s-” His tone went from loving to worried in a split second, and the room was suddenly tense.

“Linda, Linda calm down…. I’m so sorry dear…I- yes. Are ze rest of the boys alright? … Understandably… Alright. Yes I will…. Yes, I will. Of course my dear, as soon as I possibly can. I promise. Is he-? Yes. Hold on one moment.” He brought down the phone from his face and held his hand over the receiver. “Scout. S-... Lawrence, please come here.” He said in a tight tone. When he heard his birth name, Scout perked up and looked to Spy. After reading the atmosphere and the look on Spy’s face, he obediently sprinted over.

“Spy what’s going on? Is something wrong? Is Ma on the phone?” He asked, grabbing for it. Spy didn’t try to pull it away, and just looked solemnly at the boy as he answered the phone. “Ma? Yeah, it’s me, is- Ma what’s wrong? …. W-what do you mean- what… Greg? Greg is… O-Oh God. Oh my God, no. No, no no…. Ma, this can’t be happening- what do you mean? No- No, he can’t be!” Scout’s voice was trembling and everyone’s eyes in the room were on him. Pyro went to Engie, and was hiding behind him while watching Scout. Sniper’s hand went to cover his mouth in shock and he looked to Spy, whose mouth was set in a straight line.

  
“I-I… I’ll be there… tomorrow, as soon as I can…. Do you wanna t-talk to Jean again Ma? O-Okay. Yeah, I love you too. I-I’ll see you tomorrow….” He said in an almost whisper, hanging up the phone. He was shaking, and it looked like he was going to throw up or start screaming. Scout was staring at the wall, unable to move. He started whimpering just under his breath, whispering his disbelief.

  
When he finally looked up he was searching his companions, his eyes were watery and red, on the verge of tears. Scout started to back up, shaking his head.  
“Lawrence, I’m so sorry,” Spy said, and reached to put a hand on his shoulder. Scout started to shake his head and backpedal towards the door.

  
“No, No… no it’s not- it can’t be… Greg can’t be dead!” He shouted, and made a run for it. He sprinted at top speed to his room, fumbling with the door and slamming it behind himself. He started to freak out, hyperventilating, eyes flicking all over the room. He screamed and sobbed and threw things, collapsing on his bed and using his pillow to try and muffle his cries like he did when he was small. It felt like part of his world had collapsed..

Greg is the second oldest, with ten years on Scout. He was always the one who made the others include Scout, he was the one who defended him when no one else would. Next to their mother, Greg was the only one who protected him and made sure he was safe. In eighth grade when Scout cut his own hair, Greg told him he loved it and helped him style the butchered mess. After Scout turned 21 Greg took him to his first bar and bought him his first drink, then got him utterly smashed in the same night. Greg had gotten him his first job and then taken him to spend his first paycheck on a playboy. Out of all of his brothers he and Greg were closest, and now he was gone

.

Scout laid in his bed with his hands fisted in his hair. His chest felt heavy, there was a pain there too. It felt like a dark fog had swallowed him up and he was drowning in it. Scout closed his eyes and rubbed at them, pleading to himself to wake up from this awful dream.  
“ _Please_ God, this can’t be real,” And with that he started to cry again.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a quiet morning for the Red team. Inside the base there were murmurings of what had happened, and it wasn't long before everyone knew that Scout's brother had passed. Outside, the weather was a cheery contrast to the mood- cloudless and sunny, and it did nothing to lift the depressing fog that had settled uneasily over the mercenaries. 

Scout stayed in his room the entire day, then night, and then well into the next day. He didn't even come out for meals, which Engineer kept putting beside his door. He replaced each one with a fresh dish every couple of hours, although every one of them went untouched. Once in a while you’d hear sobbing or screaming or a series of loud crashes, or all three at once from Scout’s room, and the rest of the men would exchange worried sympathetic glances, not knowing what to do. 

The physical trip to Boston would take three days by car, and despite Scout’s insistence that he’d be there in one, it just wasn't going to happen. Not only that, but the Administrator did not allow her mercenaries to leave for emergencies for more than two days at a time. The youngest merc didn’t know any of this, however, and when he finally ventured out into the base, puffy eyed and expressionless, Spy had been elected to be the one to deliver the bad news. 

He nodded in understanding and bit his lips with buck teeth, doing his best not to cry out again. Instead he just went to the kitchen and phoned his mother to let her know. He was getting choked up within the first few seconds, unable to vocalize that he wouldn’t be able to make his brother’s funeral. 

From the side, engineer was watching, his heart twisting with pity for the kid. He wracked his brain trying to think of ways he could help, and the moment he saw Scout put a hand to his mouth to cover another sob, the texan couldn’t hold himself back. He marched over to the phone and firmly took it from him. 

“Hello? Listen here, your son will be there m’am, I’ll see to it myself.” He said in an authoritative tone. He handed it back to Scout after that with a nod, and he took the phone numbly. 

“...Thanks Engie…” he mumbled quietly, and the shorter man smiled back at him with a hint of sadness left in his expression, before going to figure out how in the hell he was going to pull this off. 

The Spy had also remained mostly in his own room, surviving on a chain of one cigarette after another, taking breaks long enough to sleep and to call Scout’s mother to check up on her. He was fully planning on going to her, he had his ways and she was obviously in need of comfort from someone. He had no idea how Scout was getting there, if he even could. 

For himself, Spy could pull a favor in with the Administrator, plus she marginally liked him on top of that. But Scout, she detested and owed nothing. The hag might even take some twisted pleasure out of denying him this.  
He took a long drag, exhaling it a breath later in a cloud above his head, trying to come up with ways to convince the woman to let them go. Losing two of her mercenaries for three days was going to be a tough one to pull off, if it was even possible. 

A knock on his door made him turn, and the familiar southern accent sounded from the opposite side of the door. “Spah, Can I talk to you?” he asked, waiting politely for a response. 

“You may enter,” He responded, and the door opened to reveal an Engineer clad in his usual overalls and hardhat. “Yes, toymaker?” 

“Spah, it would seem that our Respawn system is all sorts of messed up. It looks like someone went an’ took a 48 inch Stilson pipe wrench to her inner workin’s four or five times, and it might take me a few days to recover the machine. Could you be so kind as to inform the Administrator that we’ll be down a few days while I get ‘er back online?” He said with squared shoulders, a mask of indifference painted across his face. 

“...how many days will you need?” He asked, already catching up to the Engineer’s plan, and he was honestly touched by the gesture. The shorter man shrugged and made a noncommittal gesture with the 48 inch Stilson pipe wrench still in his gloved hand. 

“I’d say about a week,” He estimated blindly. “Thanks for bein’ my messenger Spah, now I’ve gotta get workin’ right away. S’quite a mess down there.” He said, and went to exit. 

A moment passed before a smile graced his masked features and he took the cigarette from his lips, extinguishing it in the ashtray beside him. He rose from the chair and walked over to his personal phone, picking it up and dialing his boss, who he knew wouldn’t be too pleased with the news. 

 

Just off the base, Sniper and Demoman were spending the day in the bushman’s van, windows thrown open, just relaxing on the couch with a few beers and some good music courtesy of the van’s radio. 

Sniper’s feet were propped up on the counter across from them with just enough room for his gangly legs to reach, while demo’s head rested in his lap, calloused fingers running through the coarse hair.  
The bomber sighed happily, eyes closed as he relaxed into the touch. The pair had been like this for months now, blissfully close when no one else was around, happy enjoying the other’s company and moments of physical intimacy in private. 

They never spoke about their relationship. As far as either of them was concerned, they were just friends with benefits who cuddled more than had sex, although there was a fair amount of that too. Sniper just assumed that Demo didn’t want anything more than that, and he wasn’t going to push a relationship and risk destroying what they already have. 

“Dee, it’s a damn shame tha we have tae work tomorrow…” He murmured, his hand wrapped loosely around a lukewarm bottle of BluStreak. The gunman made a noise of agreement, his hat resting over his eyes as he relaxed. 

“Yeah, If it were just a few days longer, Scout could go back home…” He thought out loud, bringing the mood down unintentionally. 

“Aye… poor thing.” The hand stopped playing with Demo’s hair and Sniper sat up straighter, pushing his hat back in place. “Ye think he’ll be alright?” He asked, concern written over his features. 

The sniper shrugged, sighing heavily. “Hope so… I’ve never lost anyone loike that… can’t imagine what it’s like,”

Demo got up, moving himself to sit beside the gunman. “Consider yerself lucky tae not have lost anyone then…” He said, reaching over to put his bottle on the counter. “ S’goddamn heartbreakin’ when ya do,” 

Sniper frowned, “M’sorry love,” Came his apology. He didn’t know why he was sorry, he didn’t even know what the other man was talking about really. Dark hands took one of his and brought it to a soft pair of lips. 

“ Don’t go feelin’ sorry fer me, I do that enough for both of us,” He murmured against the calloused fingers, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. The Sniper smiled and moved his hand to cup the other’s face, bringing him in for a kiss. These moments of closeness between them were so tender they made Sniper’s heart ache. 

“The kid’s been shutting out everything since he got the news… Won’t eat.” Sniper said quietly after he pulled back. Demo understood where his mind was right now and knew that when Sniper fixated on something there was nothing to be done. 

“Dee, why don’t yae go and talk tae the lad then?” He suggested with a smile. The gunman didn’t respond at first considering what he would say to the hurting kid, then after some thought on it he nodded. 

 

It was just after sundown and Scout couldn’t lay on his bed anymore. His body was restless and aching from the hours he spent curled up, numb to the world. Instead he paced around his room, itching to go for a long run, but his body and mind couldn’t agree. He wanted to fall asleep just so the hurt would go away for a while, but he was too restless. He wanted to run and run and run until his chest hurt from a lack of oxygen instead of heartbreak, but he couldn’t bring himself to slip on his cleats and go. 

With a shout of frustration Scout grabbed his bat from it’s place beside his bed and flung it against the wall. A piece of it splintered off from the force of the blow and he felt a little better because of that. 

Gingerly, the door opened and Scout composed himself as much as he could before Sniper’s head poked inside followed by his lanky body. 

“Hey Kiddo,” He started, sounding unsure of his words. Scout shifted on his feet, feeling uncomfortable in his presence and avoiding his gaze. The Sniper sounded like his mom when she was about to give him the sex talk and oh boy did he not want to have another awkward conversation like that. 

The Bostonian didn’t respond so Sniper took a step further inside and shut the door behind him. He would call Scout one of his closest friends if anyone asked. Despite the kid’s irritating exterior he ended up growing on the assassin and he had to admit that he cared for him. 

“You’ve been awful scarce as of late, Oi was thinkin’ maybe you wanted to talk about it?” He offered, wondering if this was a good idea after all. He waited for Scout to respond, watching him closely. The kid made a noise of protest, shifting his gaze from the walls to the floor to the ceiling, but never close to the other man. 

After a good amount of time had passed, the room thick with a strange tension Sniper didn’t enjoy, Scout lifted his eyes to meet the Sniper’s. He crossed his arms defensively and leveled the stare. “Listen, Snipes ya don’t gotta… I-I… “Scout’s face turned red and he could no longer hold Sniper’s stare. Backing further into his room, Scout felt his palms grow sweaty and his heart hammer. Why was this happening? He hated to think that the whole team saw him as this weak pathetic kid who needs comforting. What would they think of him? Did they send Sniper to come and snap him out of it? Scout dreaded to think they were all talking about him while he was holed up in his room licking his wounds. 

Even when he was younger, if he needed comforting his brothers would torment him over it. Saying only girls cried and only little fags needed their mommy to hug them and hold them. Scout learned to keep what was really bothering him inside and put on a charade until he felt okay again. 

If anyone, Greg would notice him acting out and corner him when they were alone. He would smile and ask if he wanted to talk about it, although it was a rhetorical question really, Scout was going to talk whether he wanted to or not. 

Now as he was faced with the same words, Scout didn’t know what to do. The assassin waited patiently for him to collect him words, his face unjudging. 

Scout swallowed harshly and took a deep breath to calm himself, but thinking of his brother only got him going again. His eyes watered and he bit his lip hard to keep the sobbing in his throat. Sniper’s eyebrows rose in surprise, he wasn’t expecting waterworks already. This must’ve really shook him. Sniper took a step forward, his hand clasping Scout’s shoulder. 

 

“Hey, come on now, it’ll be alroight,” 

The sympathetic words were said in such a way that Scout’s last shred of willpower devoted to keeping himself held back dissolved and he latched onto the taller man, crushing him in a hug.

“No! No it ain’t alright! My brother’s dead and nobody else gives one shit about me! He was the only one who cared an’ now he’s gone!” He shouted into Sniper’s chest, bawling. Rough hands rubbed his back slowly, encouraging him to let it out. He shook and sobbed and yelled all the while Sniper soothed him and listened. 

“There’s plenty of people who care about ya, kid.” He said quietly once Scout had calmed down a bit.Scout stayed quiet, sniffling and feeling pathetic as he listened. 

“Doc an’ Heavy care fer ya, so do Demo an’ Engie. Even Spoi, he won’t admit it but he does. The whole team, myself included. We’re all worried about you, you’re important to us kiddo,” He said, finding himself surprisingly eloquent. Sniper wasn’t good at talking usually, it put him out of his very small realm of comfort. He wondered if the time spent with these men had had such a drastic effect on him that he was now at ease around them. 

“M’sorry about your brother,” One of his hands slid up and held Scout’s head. “But Oi know everyone would do anything to make you feel loike yourself again,”  
They stayed like that for another minute or so before Scout pulled back, still a bit red in the face and crumpled looking. But a small smile graced his lips as he tried to excuse himself. 

“Hey… Thanks a lot Snipes… “ He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “..S’nice ta hear it, yanno?” And the assassin nodded. It was true too, the men on the team may be a bunch of hardened killers, but they all care for one another. Whether it was simply brotherly affection or a stronger bond of some kind forged by years working side by side, they could count on each other. 

“Well, if you need anything, chat me up, yeah?” Sniper walked towards the door, taking this as the end to their conversation.

Outside the door Spy was waiting for the room’s occupants to exit so he could deliver the good news.  
The administrator hadn’t been too pleased with the news but there was nothing more she could do than berate Spy for letting it happen. Sending them into combat without a working respawn was not an option unless she wanted to hire a whole new set of mercenaries, and no one besides the team’s engineer knew how to fix the system, so the process couldn’t been expedited any faster. 

The door finally opened and Sniper walked out with a trace of a smile left on his face from their conversation.  
“Spook why’re you haunting about?” He asked, and Scout held the door open to address the man. Spy emptied his lungful of smoke into the air and smiled at the both of them. 

“Gentlemen, if you would please come with me zhere is a team meeting your attendance is requested at,” He explained, already walking in the direction of the rec room. Scout, clad only in his pajamas, was given no choice but to follow after. 

“About what?” Sniper inquired, following behind the Spy. 

“Oh, Wouldn’t you like to know.” Came his response, pulling a series of grumbles from the assassin. Spy lived to annoy him, almost constantly he was mocking the Sniper or doing little things he knew would irk the taller man. It was a certain brand of torture that only came from Spy. 

Once they got to the rec room Sniper took a seat beside Demo on the couch, throwing the man a questioning look to which the bomber shrugged. The room was full of chatter with the whole team in attendance. Scout quietly took a seat on the floor next to Pyro. 

Spy, who stood in front of the television at the front of the room put a hand up to signal he was about to speak, but the conversations in the room continued regardless. He huffed and crossed his arms, losing some of his well collected mask.  
“Would you all kindly shut up!....Thank you.” 

He waited until he had full attention and then began, making eye contact with Engineer and Scout, who looked away, arms crossed over his knees.  
“Men, it would seem our Respawn system has unfortunately, been compromised.” There was a few looks exchanged between the men, and Soldier’s gasp of indignation that went ignored. “Although our Engineer will be able to recover the machine, we will be off of the field for zhe next week. Zhis essentially means zhat we are free to do as we wish and treat zhese next seven days as a furlough. You may leave zhe base as you please and go do anything, within legal limitations, zhat you desire,” He threw a pointed look to Soldier, who broke several laws over the previous breaks they enjoyed. Scout, who hadn’t been paying the greatest attention at the beginning, was now fully alert. “May I suggest, zhat you use zhis time-”

“Wait wait wait- we have tha whole week? As in, all seven days? No work?” Scout interrupted, and Spy nodded, smiling just barely. “Ya mean I can really make it home?” His voice wavered, tears starting to well again, but this time for a good reason. Every man in the room wore a similar expression at the pure relief and gratitude in Scout’s voice.  
“Yes, you may return home Scout. But in order to make zhe trip in a reasonable amount of time for Gregory’s wake, you must leave-” He checks his watch. “ Within zhe hour,” 

Scout jumped up. “A freakin’ hour? I gotta pack! An’ shit- I don’t have a car!” Spy, who did in fact own a car, didn’t look too keen on the idea of inviting the younger man into his luxury vehicle for a three day journey. 

Sniper had said he would help Scout in any way he could, and he meant it. “Oi don’t have any plans for the next week, if you need a ride,” He offered, and Scout turned to him in surprise. Before he could comment on the offer, Demo joined in. 

“I’ll join yae if yae’d like- Never been tae the east coast before!”

Medic, who sat beside Heavy on the team’s worn in loveseat, added his own offer. “I vas going to offer my services, but it seems Herr Sniper beat me to it. However if you do not mind zhe company, I vould love to join as vell.” Scout didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to be alone for the ride, breaking down crying every few minutes didn’t make for a very safe or fast trip, and here were all of his friends volunteering their time off to spend helping him get home. 

“Aw ya guys don’t hafta… But I mean if ya wanna really come with, I wouldn’t mind,” He admitted, smiling at the group. Spy let out a relieved breath knowing he was safe to drive by himself and thought it heart warming that the others were supporting their youngest member. 

“Woo! Road Trip! Is anyone else comin’ along?” Demo asked enthusiastically. 

“Negative, Merasmus is out of town at a wizard convention and the raccoons get lonely on their own!” Soldier answered, beaming at the thought of his pets. 

“Sorry Partner, I gotta stay back to fix Respawn,” Engineer too, which meant Pyro was probably staying as well. Everyone turned to Heavy, who had remained quiet through the whole conversation so far. 

“I will come too, for little Scout,” Heavy rumbled, making the mentioned boy turn a bit pink. 

“Thanks ya guys… I-I gotta go pack,” He hurried out of the room and those who were going on the trip quickly decided which cars everyone was going in before dispersing. Spy gave Engineer a nod of his thanks before disappearing to his own room. 

 

Sniper’s camper had two seats in the cabin and the back that doubled as his living space. He, Demo, and Scout had to share the area and Scout offered to take the first turn in the back. Medic’s catering van had two seats up front and a row in the back that someone could easily lay down on if they wanted. The plan was that every other day Scout would switch between the two cars and at night drivers would switch. Spy was taking his sports car on his own and had left before any of the others, long gone by the time they got on the road. 

 

It was close to midnight now, Scout lay on Sniper’s bed in the back of his van as they trucked along, the muffled sound of laughter and music coming from the van’s cabin as Demo and Sniper kept each other company. The motion of going forward and the way the van shook if they hit the slightest bump was making the runner feel queasy, he could only thank the fact that he had a completely empty stomach at the time and didn’t vomit in the gunman’s bed. 

He thought about a lot of stuff, his brother, his family, the team. Scout had an ache in his chest to see his mother and his home again. It’s only when you start really thinking do you remember the little stuff that means the most to you. Those memories that make you smile and wish you could go back to relive them. For Scout it was the everyday stuff, when Greg would do his homework with him or take him to the park when Ma was too busy. And he tried to stop it, stop thinking of the things that would set him off again, but it was hard. 

He told himself to focus on anything else, the way the street light came through the van’s blinds and moved across the walls, or how the blanket made his skin feel a bit itchy, but not in a bad way. Flipping over so he faced the wall, Scout wedged himself deeper into the folds of blankets and smothered his face in the single pillow the gunman owned. It smelled of sweat and shampoo, nothing fancy, just a nice clean smell. Maybe a hint of aftershave, or cologne, something like that, it lingered in his nose and made him want to take another deep breath. He tried to place it, but everytime he came close to naming it, the thought escaped him. He wondered idly as he started to drift off what Sniper smelled like, and if that scent he couldn’t place was something uniquely him.


	3. Chapter 3

The road was empty, illuminated only by the headlights of Sniper’s van and the occasional strip of moonlight that made it past a thick cover of clouds that had taken over the sky.

In the distance, thunder rumbled deeply and flashes of lightning briefly lit up the barren desert floor. Soon the real storm would begin, bringing a much needed rain to the dry land . The atmosphere felt heavy in anticipation of it, and if someone were to take a deep breath they might shudder at the chill in the air that was typical of a desert night. But as Sniper trucked along, good music flowing into the cabin of the van as little more than background noise, he was contented. If he forgot the reason for the long drive he could allow himself to get lost in the feeling of it. The man next to him had relented to a comfortable silence, letting the radio do it’s job of filling the quiet.

The window was open, Sniper’s hand lazily holding a cigarette just outside of his van as a courtesy to his passenger. The smoke got inside the van either way, but Demo thought the gesture was nice.

Taking one final drag, the assassin flicked the used butt outside and rolled up the window, making the space seem even smaller than it had before. His free hand moved to take the wheel, and the other went to the armrest beside him as he relaxed into the position once again. It was well past midnight, there was only a few more hours of driving before the first stop.

Scout’s headset was around Sniper’s neck, acting as a way of communication between the two cars heading to Boston.

“...allo?” The quiet but recognizable voice of Medic crackled to life from the earpiece. Sniper moved it closer to his ear and pressed the button allowing him to respond.

“Doc? What’s going on?” He asked, and there was momentary static on the other line. Demo looked over to him, moving to turn the radio down so the doctor could be heard better.

“Ah, I vas vondering if ve could possibly stop to rest soon? Or svitch drivers?” He answered, and Sniper looked over to his companion.

“I’m good tae drive if yae want tae take a break,” Demo offered, and although the assassin wasn’t particularly tired yet, he figured the others weren’t as accustomed to long drives as he was.

“Next gas station we see, pull into it and we’ll switch,” Sniper instructed, letting go of the headset.

Demo sat up straighter and cracked his back, trying to wake himself up in preparation for his turn in the driver’s seat. There was a crate of beer at his feet along with a few bottles of scrumpy, but he’d decided to remain sober for the ride up. He already only had one eye, drinking and driving would only handicap him further.

“Do us favor and don’t crash my van,” Sniper teased, smiling at the Scot. Demo rolled his eye and smiled back, his hand moving between them to grab at the assassin’s.

“If yae think I’m bad, don’t forget Scout still has a turn to drive,” Demo said calmly, and the color drained from Sniper’s face.

 

Several loud knocks on the metal of the camper door woke Scout from his slumber. He’d been tangled in Sniper’s sheet, arms wrapped around the single pillow the assassin owned when they stopped at a 24 hour station.

“Hey kid, we’re switching drivers.” came Sniper’s gruff voice from outside. “There’s a shop here if ya need anything,” Scout pulled himself up, kicking off the sheet and rubbing at his face with one hand. He hopped down from Sniper’s bed and stretched his limbs, cracking his back in several loud pops to ease the stiffness.

Outside of the campervan it was cold, the air felt heavy and the wind blew right through your clothes in a single gust. As soon as Scout opened the door the chilly air hit him and sobered him from his drowsy state. He zipped his hoodie up to his neck, shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped out, looking around for the others.

Demo was standing by Medic’s van, taking with him and Heavy while Medic hugged his arms against the cold. Heavy seemed perfectly comfortable in his T-shirt and jeans, earning him jealousy from everyone else.

Scout didn’t feel like talking to them, he didn’t feel like talking at all, for once. He told himself it was because he just woke up, and he walked straight towards the small convenience store lit up in neon at the corner of the lot. A small bell chimed as he entered, but the attendant didn’t look up from the television set he was focused on. The picture was fuzzy and the sound didn’t come in too well, but it seemed to hold the clerk’s attention regardless.

Scout walked around, not feeling too hungry, and grabbed a bag of ranch flavored chips and two cans of Bonk from a freezer. It was just a habit, he didn’t really want any of it, but it seemed too normal to pass up. Bubbly toxic beverage and unhealthy artificial snack, two staples of his diet.

He paid the zombified clerk and left the store, the small bell signaling his departure. Sniper was leaning against the van smoking another cigarette, Demo beside him.

“So… what’s up?” Scout asked after walking up to them, his voice tentative.

“You’re going with Doc an’ Heavy for now, the big guy’s gonna drive for a bit. Demo’s taking over for me and Oi’m getting some shut eye,” Sniper flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his heel as he headed to the passenger’s side of his vehicle. He hopped inside and closed the door, sinking into the seat while the pleasant rush from the tobacco was still working his system.

Demoman pushed off of the side of the van and gave Scout a smile. In contrast to his usual appearance, he wore sweatpants and plain T-shirt with a jacket zipped up over it, looking remarkably comfortable. “Alright, we best get back on the road now. See you in a few hours boyo,” He said, delivering a playful jab to Scout’s shoulder as he passed.

Scout jogged over to the van where his other team members were already inside waiting for him. He pulled open the door and got in, taking position in the front beside Heavy. It was a small space and Heavy seemed to be taking up most of it already. His head just grazed the top of the car and his knees pressed against the steering wheel in a way that didn’t look too comfortable.

“You uh… gonna be okay drivin’ like that big guy?” He asked, and Heavy nodded.

“Is not so bad,” He simply said. In the back of the van Medic was settling himself to go to sleep, getting under a blanket and putting his glasses in the cupholder.

“Ja zhis is nozhing. Vonce he tried to drive vith Spy to zhe post office, you should have seen it!” He cackled, causing Heavy to flush. Scout smirked, picturing Heavy in Spy’s porsche like some strange clown car accident.

“Doktor, do I need to remind of time when you got stuck in the air vent looking for tiny birds?” Heavy asked, and the other huffed, pursing his lips.

“Zhere is no need to bring zhat up, Danke.” He replied. Scout chuckled, cracking open one of his drinks. The two older men were a strange sight to see, but he was used to them and their bickering by now.

When it first came out that the two of them were lovers, the team reacted with an understandable amount of uncertainty and awkwardness towards the pair. Scout admittedly was the harshest on them, throwing out offensive names and jokes regularly.

He avoided them on the field and off, even refusing to shower with them, and he ate his meals as far away as he could from either man.

In retrospect, he felt guilty for how he acted.

After a particularly nasty comment towards Medic one day following lost match, the doctor went and punched him straight in the face. Scout knows he deserved it. He went out like a light with a broken nose and woke up hours later in the infirmary.

It was the most awkward night of his life, spent quietly in the hospital bed while Medic did paperwork at his desk in the corner. Eventually the older man walked over to check on him none too gently.

Scout was shocked the man would take care of him after how he’d been treated, his own stubborn pride would never have allowed that. Embarrassment burned in his cheeks and he felt like a little kid who threw a tantrum.

While Medic was prodding at his face to check the swelling and bruising Scout mumbled quietly, looking at the floor.

Medic raised an eyebrow in question, his expression otherwise unamused. “Vhat?”

“I said I’m sorry…” He repeated. The doctor didn’t reply and his expression didn’t budge. Scout’s embarrassment deepened and he wanted desperately to leave.

Medic retracted his hands and gave Scout a level stare. “You’re not sorry for your actions, you are just sorry zhat I stood up for myself for vonce,” He deadpanned.

Scout swallowed hard. “N-No… really, I’m sorry. It ain’t fair, I’ve been a dick to you an’ the big guy,” He managed. With his nose and face still so tender and hurt the sensation of talking made his sinuses tingle.

“Ja, you have. Und I vill not forgive you so easily Scout.” Medic replied coldly. The younger man nodded, understanding that it might have taken more than a simple apology to redeem his actions.

“Yeah… Thanks for uh, ya know… takin’ care a’ me,” He said, and Medic slowly sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It is my job,” And with that he returned to his desk to resume the paperwork.

The next hours were unbearably quiet for the runner, he tossed and turned in his cot, his face aching and dying for a distraction. A few times he tried to break the silence, bringing up baseball teams or sports cars, trying to goad the doctor into a conversation, but each attempt the older man shot down.

Finally Scout groaned and flopped back down again, shooting a pleading look to Medic who just kept working. “C’mon Doc, what d’you an’ Heavy talk about?” He asked exasperatedly.

The papers stopped shuffling and Medic looked up. “...Vhat? Heavy und I?” He seemed skeptical. “Ve… Ve talk about ah… books, vork, philosophy. Sometimes we share stories from our pasts, stuff like zhat,” He explained. Scout’s face twisted into a disbelieving frown.

“Philosophy? You talk about philosophy with lardass?” He asked. Scout couldn’t picture Heavy with any developed opinion on anything that didn’t have two pieces of bread sandwiching it.

“Heavy, despite vhat you may zhink, is actually very smart, Scout. He’s educated, und if you give him zhe chance he can hold a very meaningful conversation on almost anyzhing,” Medic quickly defended his lover. “The language barrier is very difficult to work through, especially vith his appearance on top of zhat. Vhile I admire it of course, others see him and immediately assume he’s an idiot,” Scout never considered this.

“So he really ain’t a dummy?"

“Nein. He’s smarter zhan most, in fact,” Medic’s lips slowly turned upwards and he looked back to his papers.

That small smile at the thought of the russian man made Scout wonder. Maybe their love wasn’t fake, or a sin. How could something so completely pure as that look of adoration be evil?

Scout thought his mother a saint, and nearly every one of his brothers has a different father, only some of which he knew the names of. Why should that be okay in his book while Medic and Heavy’s completely monogamous and mature relationship was not? Thinking like this made his mouth stop running, and he laid in that infirmary bed for the next hours deep in thought about his morals and ideals.

In the next few months he really tried his hardest to be more open, he stopped pestering the pair and treated them with respect. Engineer and Pyro came out just after Christmas, and although it was still strange, Scout was nothing but kind about their relationship.

The only time he told anyone back home about the relationships on the team was when he called Greg to ask what he thought of being gay. His older brother had taken a breath and waited a minute before answering. The other members of his family all had the same opinion, that it was a sin. Greg, on the other hand, had first asked why Scout was interested in asking.

He told him the truth, that his friends came out to him and Scout wasn’t really sure of how to feel about it. His gut feeling was to reject it as wrong, to do what he’d been taught, but he wasn’t too sure if that was the right thing to do anymore.

Greg had said the way he felt about it was that if it wasn’t hurting nobody, then it ain’t none of his business. Who a person loves didn’t mean nothing about who they are. He also said that if he heard that Scout had been looking down on someone for who they were he’d beat the crap outta him next time he saw him.

Scout felt relieved for some reason, though Greg always had that effect on his problems.

 

 

Medic was long since passed out in the back, snoring louder than the van’s engine and drooling all over the seat. Scout had almost fallen asleep a few times, but the noise was a good alarm for him whenever he got too drowsy.

Despite the cramped position, Heavy hadn’t moved at all. He didn’t look one bit annoyed or angry about the small space or grating snores coming from behind them.

Scout watched him for a while, wondering how someone got to be so large. Maybe there was something weird in Russian milk.

Heavy looked over and caught him staring. He smiled, looking a bit tired and drawn out, but otherwise his regular cheery self. “Why don’t you take a nap? Heavy will not fall asleep on the road, do not worry,” He suggested.

“Well I would but ya love bird back there sounds more like a chainsaw than a dove if ya get me,” He said.

Heavy chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Try having doktor next to your ear all night, Heavy could sleep through whole war by now,” And it was true, it now took some creativity on Medic’s part to wake the giant from sleeping. Some mornings it was tender kisses to gently wake the russian bear, and other mornings a cold bucket of water.

Scout smiled, enjoying the company Heavy provided. He was glad that the past was behind them and that he had a new perspective on things. Scout couldn’t imagine missing out on being friends with Heavy and Medic over something so insignificant. “So Scout, tell me about your brother. He meant a lot to you, yes?” Heavy asked. His smile was still there, he honestly wanted Scout to talk. “I have three beautiful sisters. I love them very much, could not imagine what I would do if anything happened to them,” At the question the younger man swallowed harshly, his happy feeling shrinking away.

“Yeah… Yeah he did. “ His voice was quiet, he looked out the window at the blue tinged landscape. Dawn had passed just a few minutes before, the desert began it’s day dressed in a variety of deep blue hues that would eventually fade into vibrant oranges and sandy browns.

“Greg uh, he was a good guy….he was important to me,” Scout said, feeling his chest swell and his throat begin to tighten.

“ _Is_ important to you. He is _still_ important to you Scout." Heavy started, and the younger man looked at him with a furrowed brow. "Greg will always be part of you, part of life for you. He is gone in one way, his body, his soul, they are not here anymore. But his memory, what he taught you, the way you feel. It is important and is still here,” Heavy said. His eyes never left the road as he spoke, he was concentrating on his speech. “Do you understand?” He asked, wanting to make sure his message was getting across.

Scout’s eyes were watering but he held out, taking a breath and holding it until the sadness in his body was less severe. Heavy’s words were right, but it was also hard to hear. He didn’t want to think about it. “Y-Yeah… I got ya,” He murmured, voice thick. “M’gonna try and take that nap now, big guy,” He said, turning to the side and screwing his eyes shut. Heavy didn’t say another word, understanding that Scout still needed time.

Hopefully when they came to their next stop he’d be in a better place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come! Comment and let me know what you think! I don't really like where I ended this but I thought you all deserved another chapter already.


	4. Chapter 4

Demo hummed quietly to himself, having long since turned the radio off. He was tired and his eye ached to come off the ever stretching road. Sniper assured him that as soon as they were out of the midwestern section of the states that the trip would go a lot quicker, but it seemed like that would never happen. 

On either side of them were fields, Demo didn’t know what kind of crops but they seemed endless. Row after row of towering stalks, sometimes the field would be the color of hay and the plants would sway in the wind, sometimes they were green and the plants were sturdier and stood upright. They wouldn’t be ready to harvest for some time, Demo assumed. 

Sniper had been asleep for a few hours, at least five by the bomber’s count. He didn’t have sufficient room to stretch his gangly legs out, so he drew them up into the seat in an almost fetal position. His head was tipped back against the window and his mouth wide open as he slept. It wasn’t a very graceful position and he would probably be all stiff and sore when he woke, but he didn’t snore and that was all that mattered.

To try and relieve some of the tiredness he felt in his eye, Demo rubbed a hand over his features. He wanted to stop driving, even if it was just to take a small break. He grabbed the headset and fumbled for a moment before he had it on. 

“How are yae holdin’ up over there?” He asked.

A few seconds later the answer came. “Good. Can keep going, but Scout has to go to the bathroom. Should we stop?” Demo smiled and thanked Scout’s small bladder. 

“Sure, pull over where yae want, I don’t think there’s another station for a while,” 

The two car caravan pulled off the the side of the road, and within seconds of their stopping Scout bolted out of the car and had his pants unzipped. Demo chuckled, throwing the van into park finally and stretching his back. 

Sniper blinked awake, looking around at their surroundings. “Are we switching?” Came his voice, thick from sleep. Demo shrugged, although he was certainly hoping to rest.

“Whatever yae want love. M’just gonna get some fresh air fer a moment,” he said, opening the door and hopping out. It was a nice day, hot as always, although now that they were out of the desert the air wasn’t nearly as dry or dusty. 

Heavy lumbered over, rolling his head and rubbing at the muscles behind his neck. Soon after Medic and Sniper joined them, all complaining of stiffness. 

“We’re makin’ good time,” Sniper said after checking the map. 

“Ja, but don’t forget zhere vill be traffic in zhe cities,” Medic said, and the others nodded. There was a few moments where they looked at eachother, Sniper kicked at the dirt and looked down instead. 

“So, how’s the kid holdin’ up?” He asked , glancing over to make sure he wasn’t around. 

“He is upset, still grieving,” Heavy hadn’t gotten much more out of him. Scout didn’t manage to fall asleep but he didn’t talk either. The russian couldn’t recall a time when Scout ever acted like this before. From the day they met he was almost constantly running his mouth. 

“Well we cannae expect anything else from ‘im. What’s it been? Three days?” Demo reasoned. There were a few more nods. 

“I just hope he vill come back from zhis, if he falls into a depression and is effected to zhe point vhere his vork is suffering, he could be discharged from fighting,” There was an exchange of worried glances, but before any more of the topic could be discussed, Scout emerged from the crops, buckling his pants back up. 

“Whatcha guys talkin’ about?” He asked. They all shared a look. 

“Jus’ about how none of us have seen Boston before, the closest I’ve ever got was New York,” Sniper lied. “Maybe before we leave you could give us the grand tour, I’m sure ya know all the good bars ‘round the city,” 

Scout’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Really? You mean it? ‘Cause yeah I could definitely do that,” A smile bloomed on his face at the prospect of showing them his home town. Scout, who had the smallest amount of life experience of the nine mercenaries, was finally going to get a chance to share something with them.

“Great, but first we gotta get there kiddo. Hop in the van with me while Demo gets some shut eye will ya?” Scout nodded and said goodbye to Medic and Heavy, trotting over to the passenger side. 

After they were all settled and on the road again, the midday ride was smooth and finally starting to pick up speed. 

They passed through countless backwater towns, each separated by at least a few good miles of field while Sniper entertained the other with stories of his previous work, some funny and some dangerous, and Scout listened intently. Sniper wasn’t good at keeping track of where he was, so his stories tended to run into each other and overlap. Eventually he’d pause for a moment and ask where he was going with it again, only for Scout to laugh at him. 

“Do ya ever miss bein’ an assassin? Sounds way betta than bein’ stuck in tha middle of tha desert year round,” Scout asked to fill an obvious lull in their conversation. 

“Well… the variety in work was nice… an’ I got to see the world, so I s’pose those parts of it I miss. But with this job I get regular hours, so no more midnight shifts, I have dental and medical…. er, well sort of. And the salary don’t hurt either,” He answered, and Scout nodded his agreement. 

“Yeah, this job was a dream come freakin’ true for me. More money than I thought I’d get in a lifetime, plus I’m doin’ what I’m best at- runnin’ around and bein’ awesome. And hey- there ain’t a better bunch a’ guys I’d rather be stuck in tha desert with…. not counting Spy.” Sniper smiled at that, the kid was so honest with everything he said, whether that was a positive or a negative he couldn’t tell. “‘course, Ma still won’t take a dime from me.” 

“I take it you get your stubbornness from her then?” Scout actually shot one of his crooked toothed grins at the other. 

“If I was even half as bad as her you guys woulda thrown me off the base after day one,” He said with fondness in his voice. 

“Tell me some more ‘bout your family, kid. I’ve already done more talking than I usually do in a week,” He chuckled, looking forward to a break from speaking. 

Scout looked delighted, he never got asked to keep talking. “Hey, you asked for it Snipes... Well, Ma is somethin’ else, okay? Ain’t no woman out there who could take her, and most men neither. She had to be, bringing up the eight of us on her own, y’know?” He began, and that was the beginning to a very long talk about Scout’s family, his shitty brothers, shitty childhood, and very wonderful mother. 

Sniper learned that Scout’s family lived in a three bedroom apartment for most of his life, his mother electing to sleep on the couch and let the boys share the three rooms. The two oldest, Paul and Greg, shared one, and the twins Phil and Lou bunked with Brian, while Scout was stuck with Jimmy and Will since they were the youngest. 

Scout didn’t have much to say about Phil, he was so young when he moved away that they never got close. Now he’s a cop in Worcester and doesn’t come around much. 

The twins were real popular in school and never did good on their work, so after they graduated one became a mechanic and the other everyone thinks joined a gang. Scout took out his wallet to show Sniper some pictures of their kids and of the few brothers that he had in there. 

When talking about Jimmy, Scout’s face adopted a rather puckered appearance. He had nothing good to say about him, the man was a no good thief and was in jail for trying to rob a bank with his other brother Will.   
Will and Scout, being closest in age, were always friendly. But then he got involved with some bad people and started doing pills. After that he dropped out of high school and ran away from home with his mother’s jewelry to hock it for drug money. After trying to rob the bank with Jimmy he got five years in prison, which was nothing compared to Jimmy’s 17. 

All throughout the story, Sniper got quieter and more awkward as he heard how Scout’s brother’s turned out to be drug addicts and criminals. It made Scout’s personality and usual cheery disposition a wonder to the huntsman, and he gave him more respect for what he’s had to deal with. 

“- an’ anyways, they’re all terrible ‘cept Ma, but she’s shackin’ up with Spy, which sucks,” He pouted. Sniper perked back up, he could talk about hating Spy, in fact it was one of his favorite subjects. 

The rest of the ride went smoothly, it wasn’t until lunchtime that they had another break. By then Scout had retreated back into himself again, not talking or moving much, just sitting and staring off into space. 

They had planned on stopping at a diner for lunch and there was no shortage of small towns to choose from. It ended up being in Napanah, Oklahoma that the two car caravan pulled into Dave’s Diner, an establishment lit up with neons and welcome signs galore. 

They marched through the doors, stomachs empty and in great need of caffeine, and they all collapsed into a booth looking absolutely worn out. 

“My eyes feel like zhey are going to fall out of my skull…” Medic groaned, massaging his temples. Sniper didn’t say a word, but he removed the aviators and rubbed at his eyes before dragging his hands down his face. 

A waitress came to hand out menus and introduce herself to the group, then she asked if she could start them off with anything. 

“Coffee. The whole pot,” Sniper said, before even opening his menu. Medic and Demo groaned in agreement, and Heavy asked for a cup of tea if they had it. The waitress looked at Scout, who hadn’t said a word or touched his menu. 

“And for you hun?” 

He shrugged, not really in the mood for anything. “I’ll have whatever they’re having,” 

She wrote the drinks down and walked off to another table. 

The menus were overlarge and offered an array of american foods as well as all day breakfast. Heavy seemed to be making a list of things to order, while demo read over some of the items skeptically. 

The waitress returned with the pot of coffee and four cups, as well as Heavy’s tea. 

Sniper was the first one to nab the container and pour himself a cup, then Medic grabbed for it and then Demo, who poured Scout’s cup as well. 

She had brought over a smaller container of cream, but it went untouched. 

“Ready to order?” She asked. Heavy started off, he was getting an order of fried shrimp, pork loin, french toast, and some broccoli soup. The waitress’s eyebrows were raised, but she said nothing about the amount of food, and moved on to Medic, who just wanted a bran muffin. Demo ordered a burger special, and Sniper asked for toast. When she got to Scout, he said he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want anything, but Medic frowned at that. 

“Scout you have to eat somezhing,” He said sternly. 

“I ain’t hungry, I’ll eat later…” He replied, crossing his arms. 

“No, pick somezhing from zhe menu, you haven’t eaten all day!” He glared at the younger man, who groaned, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m not a fuckin’ kid, doc! I think I should be able to decide when to eat or not,” He returned the glare and the others looked between them worriedly. 

“Und I am telling you zhat it is best for your health zhat you eat, so choose somezhing before I do it for you.” He demanded, and the runner took a steadying breath, short on patience. 

“Ya know what? Fine- who gives a shit, gimmie a grilled cheese, okay?” He relents throwing his hands up, and the others let out the breath they were holding. 

The waitress quickly leaves with their orders and the five lapse into silence, Scout not looking at any of them. After another few moments of tense quiet, Scout gets up from his end seat and walks outside, nearly slamming the door. 

“...I just vanted him to eat somezhing…. no big deal, really.” Medic complained, looking into the steam rising from his cup. Heavy sighed.

“Scout has other things on his mind, he was not eating very well back at base either, remember,” Heavy said, sipping his tea. Sniper had finished his cup and was halfway through a second, the caffeine already helping him to wake up. 

“I’ll go talk to the kid,” He said, leaving his cup and scooting awkwardly past Demo to get out of the booth. 

Outside, Scout was leaning against a streetlamp in the parking lot, one that he’d kicked a few times in his frustration. 

His eyes were closed and he had his hands in his pockets, but when he heard the door open he turned to see who was coming out. 

“There you are, kid. Don’t want ya runnin’ off on us,” He said, wishing he had his hat to block the sun from his face. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, don’t worry,” He said, leaning his head against the pole again, his expression tired. 

“He’s really got your best interests at heart, ya know. Doc didn’t mean any harm,” Sniper stood beside him and fished the box of cigarettes out from his pocket. It was new so he tamped against his palm a few times before taking off the wrapper and pulling one out, sticking it between his lips. 

“Can I have one of those?” 

He almost laughed, not taking the other seriously. “You want a cig? Have ya ever even smoked before?” Scout frowned, crossing his arms. 

“Well no... but you always smoke ‘em when you’re having a bad day or stressed or whateveh… I just need something, I feel like my skin’s crawling, man,” Scout whined, and Sniper made a noise in the back of his throat. 

“It ain’t a good habit to get into Scout,” Sniper warned, but he wasn’t going to deny the kid what he asked for, not right now. He got another out from the pack and handed it to him.

Scout held it gingerly, trying to mimic how Sniper was doing it. 

“Don’t take too much in, you’ll throw up,” He brought the lighter up to his first, quickly taking a drag, before handing it to Scout. The younger man had to try a few times to make the lighter work, and didn’t know to breath in while lighting it. 

“Give it a drag before you burn the fucking thing,” Sniper growled, and Scout nearly jumped, sucking the end between his lips harshly. 

He immediately doubled over coughing and hacking, but managed to hold on to the cigarette. Sniper groaned again, shaking his head. He knew it would happen, but he still gave it to him. 

It was a full minute before he righted himself, spitting into the dirt and wincing at the raw feeling of his throat. 

“You gonna smoke that or should I put it out and take it back?” He said, nodding to Scout’s hand. Not one to back out of anything, Scout bravely took another try, filling his mouth with the smoke at a much less punishing pace. He coughed again, but less severely this time. 

 

Sniper stood beside him, wondering why on earth he was there, while Scout smoked his first cigarette, wincing and hacking his way through it. 

“Try to pull it into your mouth, wait a tick, then slowly breathe in,” Sniper said, after watching him rub at his throat. Scout was a little red in the cheeks, but tried to take the advice. It worked a little better, and he only had to cough into his hand once or twice before going back for more. 

Just having something else to focus on made his anxiety fade from his mind. Having Sniper there helped him to calm down and Scout definitely started to feel better from where he was earlier. 

Sniper snubbed out the end of his cigarette, dropping it on the ground, and waited for Scout to finish, but he got to a point where he just looked at the assassin and back at the small white tube between his fingers and just made an unhappy face. Sniper smiled a bit, wondering what he’d do. 

“I-I…. I’m gonna save this for later, yeah, you just gotta take your time and savor these things, ya know?” He said, pressing the lit end of it against a rock on the ground and shoving it in his pocket, half smoked. His eyes were watery and he couldn’t stop clearing his ragged throat, but he felt better in a weird way. 

Sniper snorted in amusement and shook his head. “Right, I’ll take your word for it... anyways, do ya wanna head back inside? I bet the food’s nearly done,” He suggested, and they both walked back to their table. 

Scout tried to check himself over, to see if he was feeling any different. Besides the aching in his throat, nothing yet. No nicotine rush, or pleasant floating feeling, just a slight change to his foul mood. 

None of the food was out yet, but the three men were discussing literature when Sniper and Scout sat themselves back down.   
“C’mon Doc, you’ve got to admit, even the tallest tales have their roots in truth. The stories may be a wee bit of a stretch sometimes, but tha’s only to make their lesson easier for kids to understand,” 

“Demoman, I’ll allow your frankly ridiculous belief of zhe loch ness monster to pass because ve simply do not have zhe time to argue over zhat right now, but I downright refuse to acknowledge zhe Brother’s Grimm collection of fairytales as a non-fiction work,” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Heavy chuckled, flashing a sly smile to Demo. 

“Hmm, I agree with Demoman, they are truth, the lessons in fairytales,” He said, and Medic groaned, the absurdity of this conversation giving him another headache. 

“Zhere is a story vhere a bird, a mouse, und a sausage are living together, and you are telling me zhat it is true?” The doctor knew his lover was just trying to annoy him, but he couldn’t let it go. 

“Well, the stories were written so long ago, who really knows, could have been completely normal for little sausage and bird to be friends,” Heavy argued. 

The waitress appeared with some of their food, placing it on the table and interrupting their bickering. Scout asked for a glass of water on her way back, the hot coffee not exactly the ideal drink for his throat at the moment. 

After all the food was on the table and Scout’s water was being greedily gulped down, Heavy started to dig in, eating surprisingly neatly for how quickly he was consuming. Demo too, although he was less reserved. 

Medic took his time in unwrapping the muffin and slicing it into two even halves with his knife, then picking one half up, inspecting it and sniffing it, before finally taking a small bite. Scout watched him eat, wondering if it was a Medic thing or an old man thing to be so picky with how you consume your food. 

Sniper didn’t touch his toast for a while, but he sipped the coffee and buttered the slices while he waited, making small talk with Demo. 

Scout looked down at his grilled cheese that came with a side of french fries and a pickle. He wasn’t hungry, in fact the thought of eating made him feel a bit queasy. 

Medic eyed him, and when Scout caught his stare he almost pouted. Maybe one fry wouldn’t hurt….

Eating when you have zero desire to is a very strange feeling, Scout discovered. On his throat, the food helped a bit in a weird way, but in his stomach it felt gross and heavy. He took his time eating it too, nibbling the french fry and chewing each bite long enough for the doctor to see him making a genuine mouth motion. 

The single french fry lasted him a few minutes, but he had to take another, swallowing a lump in his throat uncomfortably. 

“Aren’t you going to at least try some of your food Scout?” Medic asked, one eyebrow raised. He finished his muffin and had resumed sipping his coffee while they waited for Heavy and Sniper to finish their meal. 

“…. I’m honestly just not hungry, doc. Probably ‘cause I haven’t run in a few days… I had a bit of the fries,” He mumbled, playing with one in his hand. 

“Why don’t you take it to go? Eat when you feel up to it, lad,” Demo suggested. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’m sure later I’ll be starvin’,” Scout smiled at Demo in thanks. Medic made a face but relented, finding that answer satisfactory. 

After they all had finished their meal and paid the tab, the men left the diner a little less angry and definitely more relaxed than when they had entered it. Scout did feel a bit better, but he thought it had more to do with Sniper’s involvement than anything else. 

Before they got back in their cars, Medic stopped Scout to talk to him quickly. The grilled cheese and fries were wrapped up to go and in a paper bag that Scout was toting to Sniper’s van, grease spots forming along it’s bottom. 

“Scout, hold on, please,” He said, and the runner stopped and turned. 

“Yeah?” 

“Before, I didn’t mean to be so… pushy, and I am sorry,” He said, and Scout stiffened, not expecting an apology. 

“I-It’s alright Doc, I know you gotta make sure I’m in good shape an’ eatin’ an’ everything-” He laughed it off, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

Pushing his glasses up on his nose, the older man sighed. “Well, yes, zhat concerns me too, but aside from my professional obligations, I am vorried about you as your friend, Scout,” He said, looking genuine. Scout didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think Medic of all people would be the next one to talk to him about this. 

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about, alright? I’m gonna be fine- I-I am fine! Ain’t it normal for a guy t’be a little sad after his freakin’ older brother kicks it?” He asked, his voice getting louder than he realized, anger controlling his tone. “I’m not a kid, and I don’t need you harpin’ over my every move, alright?!” He said, fists curled. In his head he knew he shouldn’t be mad at the man, Medic had done nothing wrong. But he couldn’t stop himself, his blood felt like it was boiling. Every time someone brought up his upset, every pitying look he received, they made him want to punch someone. 

“Scout, I vasn’t yelling at you, calm down,” Medic said sternly, his voice growing louder to match. 

“I am calm! Stop telling me what to do! Why does everyone think I’m this little fuckin’ pussy who can’t handle his own shit, huh? Jus’ cause I ain’t a hundred an’ fifty years old doesn’t mean you all can treat me like I’m in preschool!” He shouted, glaring at the other, who just squared his shoulders and looked down at Scout, expression cool. 

Medic didn’t reply instantly, he let Scout cool down, think about his own words and gave him a minute for his stance to become less overly aggressive. His shoulders drooped and his face relaxed into apprehension as he stared at the doctor, who did nothing in response to his rage. 

“Maybe if you acted like it for once, someone might believe you,” 

Scout held his tongue, he knew he was wrong, he was just lashing out, but it was hard to restrain himself still. 

“Zhis isn’t you, and you know it. Scout, it is okay to feel upset, ve all do. But don’t let it consume you,” He said, stepping forward. Scout turned and walked away, leaving the other behind him. 

Scout walked into Sniper’s van and slammed the door behind him, despite it not being his space to do so. He needed to get away from everything, he didn’t want to think. 

The leftovers were thrown onto his counter and Scout onto Sniper’s bed, where he buried himself in the pillow and blanket, not crying. 

Outside, the others all heard their ‘talk’ and were standing outside the campervan, unsure of what to do. 

“He is so moody, up and down constantly like flipping a switch,” Medic said quietly to Heavy, who put a hand around his back. 

“I know Doktor is only trying to help… Are you mad at Scout?” He asked as Medic leaned into him. 

“No… he is confused, irrational. How could I be mad at him?” He replied. 

Sniper sighed, finding this rather exhausting. “Demo, do you want to go in after him or should I?” He asked. 

“I’d have no idea what to say to the boy,” He admitted, shrugging. 

In another few moments, the door opened and Sniper walked inside his home, instantly spotting a Scout sized lump in his bed. It was weird to see him there, the spot usually reserved as private property for Sniper or on occasion Demoman, but Sniper climbed the small ladder to his bed and sat beside Scout in what little space there was.

“Now what’re you doing in here kiddo? The mattress is absolute shit so I know you aren’t here for comfort’s sake,” He said. 

Scout poked his head out of the covers, looked at Sniper with red eyes, then sat up against the wall. He kicked the blanket off, feeling a bit stupid in the other’s presence, and crossed his legs to make more room. 

“Snipes… why does everyone think I’m some dumb kid?... I fight with ya, I drink with ya, but there’s always something that makes me different. I’m not one of ya, I’m just- just some kid,” 

“Where’d you get that idea from? ‘Cause we joke around about you being in nappies still? I know you’re as much of a man as anyone else on the team, just maybe with a few years shaved off the top, but that don’t mean anythin’,” He said deciding this heart to heart talk would be done without direct eye contact. 

“We’re all worried about you because this isn’t you, just like Doc said. It’s obvious you’re still hurting, and there’s nothing wrong with that, not at all.

“But the whole starvin’ yourself and lashing out, that stuff you gotta talk about. I’m real shit at talking, and even I know you gotta get that stuff out before it eats you up. Even if it’s to yourself, you gotta work through it, at least try and process what you’re feeling,”

Scout was redfaced, he hated the whole situation, the way he’s been acting and how he’s been feeling. He didn’t want to talk to anyone about it either. 

“Talk, huh? There ain’t much I can really talk about, it’s all just feelings…” 

“So try, I’ve got time,” Sniper responded. They really didn’t though. 

He made a groaning, whining noise, not used to this. “C’mon man, don’t make me do that, it’s so gay,” 

“Ya gotta talk to someone kid,”

“Ugh, fine… But I don’t even know what to say! Like, that I-I’m sad because of Greg, pissed that he’s gone, pissed that I’m so sad, and pissed that I feel all of this. Greg made me feel like I mattered, like I was important, and nothing does that really… Back before I was on the team, Greg- he was the only thing keeping me from running away, because of the way he made me feel. And even after I joined, knowing I had someone, anyone, who gave a shit about me, about Scout… that was the only thing that mattered. An’ he would call an’ say how proud he was of me for doin’ this. I’ve never heard that in my life before! “I’m proud of ya, kid-” Do you know how great that felt?” He’d started crying, and he wiped at his eyes, but continued to talk as words flowed like water from a pipe. 

“He’s gone- He’s gone and I don’t know anything. I don’t feel like I have anyone, even when people are around me I feel lonely, cold almost. It’s fucking scary, man. An’ whenever someone pities me, or says they’re sorry, I just feel mad. Even when they want to help me, I just feel so angry at them, cause I don’t feel worth helping, since the only person I’ve ever had in my life that made me feel like anything doesn’t exist anymore! Why couldn’t someone have helped him!? I would give my life ten times over to save him! He’s worth more than me, I’m nothing!” Scout continued. 

“And- An’ Oh god damn it Snipes, there isn’t one thing I like about myself now that he’s gone. He was my favorite part of me. I guess just bein’ away for so long made me forget how I used to be,”

Scout hated how he sounded and how he probably looked. He covered his mouth to prevent any more from coming out, shaking with unheard sobs.

“How do we make you feel? The team? You keep saying that you lost the only person who cared ‘bout you, but that’s wrong Scout, I wish you’d see that…” Sniper said quietly. 

“I can give you eight guys who would do anything they can to help you out and who are damn sure proud of you. And I can name one guy who should be,” He said. Scout looked up, questioning that. 

“Who?” 

“You, kiddo. You should be proud of yourself. You fight every day with more enthusiasm and more energy in your little finger than I’ve got in my whole body. You give and give and never stop trying, and you put everything you have into what you’re doing. Don’t sell yourself short, you’re not worth nothing, you’re everything to some people,” 

Scout had stopped, he couldn’t say a word. 

“Yes, you’re brother passed away and that’s terrible. From what you’ve told me he was great and meant the world to you, and it is going to be real hard to get through his death. But just because he’s not here anymore doesn’t mean what he said to you isn’t true,” 

They both sat there, not really looking at each other for a few minutes, until Scout mumbled his name and Sniper looked up to have his arms filled with the younger boy, who hugged him sheepishly. 

“You were right, the talking helped a bit…” He said, content to stay in the awkward hug until Sniper pushed him away complaining of the heat inside the van. 

Within the next half hour they were back on the road, Scout and Demoman in the cabin of the van while Sniper slept, and Heavy and Medic in their usual arrangement. 

Scout didn’t say much in the next few hours, but he didn’t look as unbearably sad as he had before. There was a near permanent lost in thought expression etched onto his face as he stared out the window, watching the day disappear along the endless road.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long it's been, college took all my creative energy away, but now I'm back home with tons of free time, and I'm getting my writing bug back again. I have a short chapter to hold over until I can write a few thousand more for you guys. Thanks so much to everyone who has read and kept with this story, I can't thank you enough.

In a matter of hours the rolling green outside world turned to concrete as the mercenaries entered the first city of the journey. They were still a day’s drive to Boston, but the change of scenery had everyone excited. No more little towns and miles of fields, no more endless roads dotted with occasional cars. Buildings suddenly grew miles high, grids of windows in various shades of grey and brown were in every direction you looked. 

The noises outside were loud and persistent, cars honking and construction taking place all around. Demo complained it was distracting and noisy, and Sniper had to agree that it was rather irritating after some time. 

After a stop at a gas station to fuel up, Sniper sat in the passenger seat turning into a bundle of nerves as Scout piloted the vehicle. The gunman’s fingers clenched at the armrests until his knuckles were white and he stayed near silent except for little whimpers and gasps every time they came near another car. 

Scout wasn’t a bad driver in any sense of the word. And as far as city miles he probably had the most over anyone on the team, but Sniper was still on edge for the first part of his turn in the driver’s seat. 

Scout found this particularly funny, stopping short a few times to give Sniper mini heart attacks and then howling with laughter as he clenched at his chest. If the idea behind letting Scout drive was to give him a rest, it wasn’t working. 

After an hour or so he finally calmed down, unclenching and relaxing a bit, enough to lean back properly against the seat anyways. 

With his single source of entertainment gone, Scout quickly got bored and needed someone to amuse him. With no one else around, Sniper was again left to that task. 

“Just talk to me! We never had a problem talkin’ before, what d’ya mean you don’t know what to say?” Scout groaned, head against the steering wheel as they barely moved an inch at a time in bumper to bumper traffic. 

“Well, you can’t force it, that’s the thing. You’re askin’ me to make conversation, and by doin’ that you’re making it hard for me to come up with things to talk about,” Sniper said, drumming his fingers on his leg. 

“Oh that’s bullshit, if you ask me to talk, I talk. No such things as “natural talkin” and “forced talkin”,”

“Then you try it- talk to me Scout,” Sniper countered.

“Fine, I’ll show you how easy it is,” He said, and glanced over at him. Neither of them wore their hats, giving Scout a rare view of the top of Sniper’s head. He had short, unkempt hair that seemed fairly thick and grew down into those long sideburns of his. 

“....So you uh-…. Oh- Didja hear about the… hm…” He chewed his lip, searching for something to say. “How’s your kangaroo wife doin’?” Scout had always been excellent at getting on people’s nerves, and if all else failed, he always had that to fall back on. 

“Oh shut it you little cunt,” he grumbled. Scout laughed, the other was so easy to prod. The two of them shared a smile at the little running joke, if only for nostalgia’s sake.

“I wonder if Doc’s giving Heavy road head right now…” Scout looked over to the van a few cars ahead of theirs to observe them, but couldn’t see too well from his position. 

“I wouldn’t put it past ‘im. Those two have a more than healthy sex life for how old they are, Doc’s a regular nympho,” Sniper said, thinking back to a particular night he spent on the base where he had walked into the kitchen to find the two of them sneaking off with an odd array of condiments and matching red faces.

“Speaking of old men screwin’ each other, how’re you an’ Demo doin’? he wondered, and Sniper shot him an angry look. 

“M’not an old man, kiddo. And we’re … just fine. It’s not like we’re in a relationship,” 

“I thought it was official- you two go all googoo for each other at dinner and head out to your van for a few good hours almost every night. And that’s not anything more than friends?” 

Sniper didn’t talk about himself and Demo to anyone, including Demo. They weren’t hiding anything, but neither was really too sure what to call what they were. 

“It’s not…. that. We’re more along the lines of friends with benefits I suppose,” He said. 

“Oh, okay… if you say so,” Scout rolled his eyes. 

In an attempt to stray away from that topic of conversation, Sniper hoped to steer them in a new direction. 

“Did you ever get that date with Miss. P? She seemed to lighten up after we almost went belly up,” He asked, and Scout scoffed, feeling his pride ache at the mention of the woman. 

“Nope! I don’t know whether that was just a pity offer or if the adrenaline spike made her do it, but the next day when I gave her a call- nothing! She said ‘Oh, I’m sorry Scout’ Like she was really sorry! And ‘It just won’t work-’ Well, why the hell not?!” He complained, sighing roughly. “All I wanted was a chance… she didn’t haf’ta get my hopes up like that,” 

Sniper shrugged, he didn’t claim to know anything about the way women worked. “Well… she’s a busy lady Scout, she doesn’t have the luxury of weekend furloughs like we do… And have you ever considered her being into girls? That might explain it, she’s just lettin’ ya down gently is all,” The more Sniper thought of it, the more it seemed likely. “I mean, you’re not so hard on the eyes, any girl with a lick of sense would give ya the time of day at least.” 

“I swear, if she’s gay too then there must be somethin’ in the water, because I’m practically drowning in rainbows back at base,” Scout grumbled, and Sniper chuckled, remembering something Spy once said about Scout and his dislike for rainbows. 

“Really, that would leave Me, Soldier, and Spy on team straight, although Spy can hop on over any time he wants if he’d stop screwin’ my Ma,” 

“If you want to be technical, Medic and I are the only gay ones on the team… Engie used to have a wife, and Demo’s been with loads of girls, Heavy too I think… Plus, before Spy was with your Mum, he and I … well uh, you get the idea.” Sniper cleared his throat, noticing Scout’s face turn green. 

“I did not need to know that. At. All.” He shuddered. “But I guess you’re right… Huh.” 

Sniper noticed the thoughtful look Scout was giving the road in front of them. 

“Huh what?”

“...I uh, It’s just that I always thought that gays were freaks y’know? The lowest of low who take advantage of little kids…well that’s how my big brothers told it to me anyways... “ He looked away from Sniper, embarrassed. “And then, I come out to the middle a’ nowhere and meet six of the nicest guys in the world- who by the way, are better friends than any of the people I knew back home- and it turns out that they’re all fags!” 

Sniper didn’t know what to make of this. Scout had been so horrified to learn his coworkers were gay at first, but clearly that prejudice had not been his own, and he no longer carried it with him. Looking forward, he couldn’t help but think about how receptive Scout’s family will be towards the group of people he spends his days with. 

“It’s like, wow- I was so wrong, and such a jerk, over nothing! I wish I could go back in time and beat some sense into myself... “ He shook his head. 

“Hindsight is always 20/20, as they say....” Sniper mumbled, watching the traffic getting thicker by the minute. “Don’t give yourself too much grief over it… you’ve changed, that’s all that matters.” 

The rest of the day was filled with small talk, humming along to static filled radio, and several riveting games of I Spy, which eventually devolved into a game of who could better insult the resident frenchman. 

By the time the sun set they had left the city far behind and were traveling along a vast interstate once again. Sniper drifted off to sleep, leaving Scout to pilot his van alone. The silence was preferable to fuzzy radio when you had no one to sing along with, but even the soft breathing of Sniper wasn’t enough to distract him from his thoughts anymore. 

Scout tried to count the neon signs lining the road, and then he tried to think of the conversation Heavy and Medic were having in their own car, but quickly ran out of material. Instead he pictured what awaited him back home. The images that came easiest to him were the ones of his Ma, her perfectly groomed dark hair with only a few more grays than he remembered from his childhood. Maybe she’d be in the kitchen, as tiny as it was, cooking enough food to feed her small army of children. That dress she always used to wear, not just because they couldn’t afford much, but because it was her favorite- the one with the black stripe along the middle. It was so easy to see her, smiling and laughing. 

Then he saw his brothers, then he saw who he thought would show up. Paul would probably be there, albeit briefly, to pay his respects. The twins, Phil and Lou would show, they always hung around home anyways. Brian would come, and his kids, and his new wife, and her kids. Jimmy was still in jail, and Scout wouldn’t have wanted to see him anyways, but Will just got out, and might be there if he isn’t hangin’ around the same crowd as he was before. 

Scout wondered if they’d like his friends… probably not. He didn’t know if he should warn either side about the other. Asking his family not to be homophobic was just shy of impossible, and asking his friends to act like something they aren’t would be a horrible thing to do. But it might be what he has to do… 

Heavy was downright scary at first, so he wasn’t going to have a problem. Medic might get some slack if anyone finds out he’s gay, but one threat from that man will have the toughest Bostonian running for the hills. Demo would be well received among his brothers, he was so personable anyone would like him, and a new drinking buddy was always welcomed. 

They would like Sniper, right? He shoots guns for a living, he’s from Australia, and he gets to work with Scout! How could a guy be any cooler than that? Plus he knows all sorts of awesome things like astrology and how to live in the wild. And he’s tall and manly… Sure, most Australians have thick moustaches and rippling muscles, but his manliness is more… subtle. He’s tanner than any of the eight half irish boys could ever hope to be, and it makes him look so exotic. Especially on days when he sits outside his camper shirtless, making his arrows by carving wood with his kukri. Scout’s stopped to watch him numerous times, the practiced way his hands guide the blade along the wood. The calm, almost trancelike way Sniper could sit there and concentrate for hours, it was so fascinating.

He couldn’t help but think of the bushman’s eyes after that, trained to the task at hand, they were dark blue behind those aviators he loved, and they were so much more expressive than he could have imagined. 

Scout blinked, and became aware of himself. His hands on the steering wheel tightened and released, and he readjusted his position in the seat. He felt warm, so warm he needed to open a window, but the summer air did little for his heated skin. He tried to look over at Sniper, whipping his head back towards the road before he could see anything. His heart started to race, and he had to take some deep breaths to keep his eyes on the road. 

Why was he thinking of Sniper like that? Why did he like it? Scout didn’t like where this was going. 

He couldn’t be driving this van anymore, he needed to get out and run. 

“Yo, guys? Could we make a stop? My ass is killin’ me- a-and I wanna eat somethin,” He said into his radio. 

“Da, we agree. There is rest stop at next exit,” Heavy’s thick voice rumbled in his ear and he sighed in relief. Scout did all he could to not look at Sniper, or think about him, or hear his shallow breathing for the last few miles until he was free.


	6. Chapter 6

The van was parked lopsided and in a hurry, within seconds Scout was out of it and in a sprint towards the gas station bathroom.

He rushed into the first stall he could get to and locked it with shaking hands, immediately falling back against the graffiti covered door. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, pulling at it’s roots and trying to calm his system.

His heart was hammering inside his chest, he closed his eyes and cursed at himself, feeling the anxiety stir his thoughts into panic. What had he been thinking? Scout hesitated to answer that question in his head, not knowing if he would like the answer.

The foul air in the bathroom was humid and dense and Scout was starting to sweat bullets. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and wiped at his temples, almost surprised by the amount of liquid he managed to collect. “Fuck… What the fuck,” He whispered to himself, taking his shirt again and hiding his face in it.

He shuddered with every breath, his thoughts swimming between his panic, the heat, and something else that made his stomach flip. He opened his eyes, trying to get out of his head, and stood up straighter against the door.

The stall was disgusting, piss on the floor and dirtied toilet paper thrown around. The fluorescent white light was dimmed by the sheer amount of dead bugs that had accumulated in it over the years.

Scout was shaken from his observations by the door swinging open again. He was on his toes, nervous to be caught in such a panic. He listened to the footsteps as they lead to a urinal and then the sound of a zipper was heard. Scout turned and tried to peek through the crack of the stall to get a look at who it was, but he couldn’t make anything out.

He felt strange being so aware of the other man’s presence, so Scout gave the toilet a flush for effect and carefully opened the door. He nearly backpedaled into the toilet when he saw Sniper’s back to him, standing at the urinal. Scout quickly unfroze himself and went to the sinks, washing his hands to relieve the feeling of disgust from being in such a place.

Glancing in the mirror he almost didn’t recognize himself. His face was flush, his eyes wide and every hair on his head was sticking out in odd ways. Scout gathered water in his hands and splashed it on his face, appreciating the cool shock for a moment.

“Hey Kiddo,” Sniper came up next to him, going to wash his own hands. Scout felt his mouth dry up, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from venturing to that forbidden area. Instead he just kept his head down looking at the drain, water dripping off of his face.

“You feeling alright? If you’re tired I could take over drivin’,” The older man offered, scrubbing away germs with bright pink handsoap.

“Okay.” He managed, and then nodded after he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Scout turned and started to make his way outside, but as he gripped the door he felt Sniper’s wet hand grab his wrist.

“...w-what is it?” He asked, unable to turn to look at him. He was terrified the marksman knew what he was thinking. He felt guilt fill his veins.

“Scout you’re acting funny… if you need to talk, you don’t have to keep hiding it.” He said sincerely. Scout’s temper flared, then the guilt returned stronger. Sniper was just trying to be a good friend, and Scout has to go and act like a freak. He was so fucked. Scout closed his eyes before tears filled them.

“Ya don’t wanna talk about it, trust me…” He almost laughed at himself for how pathetic he was. In his mind, there was no denying it. Scout wasn’t going to try and refuse what he had been thinking. He let the forbidden thought finally come to fruition, and nearly choked on his internal sob when he did.

_‘I like him. I really really like him,’_

“No, you trust me. I want to hear it. Tell me what’s on your mind,” Sniper squeezed his wrist, Scout felt sick with guilt.

Scout let go of the door and it sealed shut with a bang. He turned around and Sniper searched him with concern filled eyes.

“Snipes… “ He pulled his wrist away, cradling it with his other hand. Scout looked to his side, stepping forward to him shakily. “You can’t be mad if I tell you, okay? A-And, it don’t mean anything, really… I just gotta get it off my chest, but don’t feel like you gotta do anything about it, because it’s just something stupid I was thinking…. I mean, fuck I’m just so confused right now with everything going on… and-and I really don’t need to be worrying about this type a’thing when all the other shit is going on… you’re like my best friend on the team an’ I know how faggy that shit sounds but-but... just please you can’t get mad at me, okay?” Words poured out of him, and Sniper got more concerned with each one of them. He got closer and grabbed Scout’s arms, worry growing.

“Jesus kid, of course I won’t be mad at you,” Scout squirmed under his gaze, heart hammering.

He didn’t know what to say, he could feel Sniper’s breath and somehow it was even hotter than the boiling air inside the bathroom. Scout didn’t want it to sound gay, but the problem with that was that it was gay, really gay. The definition of it in fact. “I-I… oh fuck me… Sniper I’m… shit man, I-I can’t-” He was close to tears again.

“Scout, Scout please you can tell me, it’ll be okay!” Sniper nearly shouted at him, the younger boy was making him panic. Scout ripped his arm from Sniper’s grasp and grabbed him at the neck. In a jolt he crashed their mouths together and kissed him so forcefully he thought the sniper’s stubble would make him bleed.

His gut clenched and he broke away from the other, scared shitless by what he’d just done.

“Fuck, oh fuck man… I’m so sorry. Shit!” He ran from bathroom and out of the gas station. His heart hammered but he kept running. He hadn’t felt this scared in the last hundred matches he’d fought in. Scout kept running, down the highway, over a fence and into a field and he just kept going. He could hear the shouts of Heavy and Medic coming after him, but he sprinted away like his life depended on it.

Sniper was dumbstruck, he did not expect that. A kiss? He thought the kid was about to tell him he was suicidal or worse and he goes and kisses him? He was so afraid... what was he saying just before? Sniper felt awful for him… why now? Was he trying to do something life affirming? Why choose him? He was so old… and so unimpressive… Why would Scout try this with him?

Sniper blew out a breath of frustration, unsure of how to process this. He wasn’t sure if anyone else should know, but he had to find the kid and get him to calm down.

He walked outside and saw Demo running towards him.

“Scout’s run off! Doc n’Heavy went after ‘im, we gotta go!” He shouted, pulling him towards the van.

“Shit.”

\---

Scout panted as he laid down in the field, covered in dirt and his own blood.

He had tripped on a root and crashed to the ground, twisting his ankle and scratching himself up pretty good. The pain felt good coupled with the exhaustion, it quieted his mind.

The kiss was shitty, as far as kisses go. His chin stung from what he could only equate to rug burn against Sniper’s stubble and he tasted like stale cigarettes and spit.

He laughed at himself, embarrassed and exhausted. Why had he been so upset? It was hard to understand why he acted like that, it seemed so childish in retrospect. When he got angry, or sad, or nervous, it felt like he had no way to control himself anymore, like the emotions took control and he was just along for the ride.

A long way off he heard two sets of tires screech to a halt. ‘They must be pretty tired of my shit,’ He thought, frowning to himself.

Without really making the decision to, he righted himself and tried to walk again. He gasped at the pain in his ankle and nearly fell again.

He hobbled away from the spot he had fallen and to a wooden fence not too far away. He sat on it and looked around for his teammates, waving to them once he had been spotted.

\--

“There he is.” Heavy pointed out, causing the other three to sigh in relief.

“I’ll get ‘im,” Sniper immediately said, and started into the field.

When he got to the scout, he didn’t say anything at first. He just stood against the fence next to him and waited.

Scout wasn’t nervous anymore, emotionally he was just exhausted.

“Got a light on ya?” Scout asked after a long while. Sniper wordlessly fished his lighter from his pocket and handed it over.

Scout flicked it on once before pulling out the half smoked cigarette Sniper had given him and toking up the end of it. He drew in once and exhaled, only coughing a few times.

Scout handed the lighter back and Sniper used it to light one for himself.

\--

“Vhat are zhey doing?” Medic squinted to try and see the two figures out in the field better. The only thing discernable was two orange embers in the darkness.

“Are zhey smoking?! I am going to kill zhat Sniper if he gets Scout started on cigarettes,” He growled. Heavy chuckled and patted his back with a large hand.

\--

“So… you wanna talk?” Sniper asked after he snubbed out his cigarette on a rock beside them. “And this time by talk, I'm not askin' to suck face,”

Scout chuckled at that.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so,” His cigarette was burning away between his fingers and he watched as the ash fell to the ground.

“I’m sorry… It didn’t mean anything… Didn’t know what else to do I guess…” He said.

“There are plenty of other things you could have done, kid…. Why did you kiss me?” He didn’t sound angry, just curious.

“Because it felt like something I had to do,” Scout didn’t know what that meant really, but he couldn’t very well explain it to himself either.

“D’ya think you like blokes then?” That question hung in the air for a while, but Sniper wasn’t going to push anything.

“...maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never like a guy before.”

“And what, you like me?”

“Dunno about that either.” At that, Sniper groaned lightly.

“Kiddo, I know you’re going through a lot, learning what you like, boy or girls or whatnot, I get that it’s a rough experience… and with your brother on top of that, I understand things are hectic right now… but I don’t think you’re gonna find what you’re lookin’ for with me… y’know?”

Scout didn’t say anything. Sniper sighed, he didn’t want to upset him.

“I’m not saying it’s because I don’t like you… But I’m so much older than you, and you’re my friend! Plus I-I… I think Demo and I… well, that’s a separate conversation.”

They didn’t say anything for a while, Scout shifted around and thought about what he was saying.

“Like I said, it doesn’t mean anything… I just felt like I needed to do it, so I did. I’ve never thought that way about another guy before… but I’ve never really been as close with anyone either.” Sniper wondered what Scout meant by ‘ never thought about another guy that way before’ and felt his face heat slightly.

“Scout, I think you should try and make it through the funeral, and then worry about this issue after. Stressing yourself out over it won’t do anything but make it worse."

“I’ll try to do that… and don’t worry about me ah…. Going after ya, okay? I’ll drop it, meant nothing. Coulda been anyone who was around,” He said, and smiled at Sniper.

“Right, okay. Nothing but friends.” He said. “You ready to head back?”

“I think I broke my ankle.” Scout replied.

\--

With Sniper crouched to allow Scout’s much smaller frame to be supported by his, the pair made their way back to the cars on three feet.

“Oh vhat have you done to yourself?” Medic groaned and went right to Scout. He took the boy from Sniper, and the marksman went back to his van, walking into the camper and collapsing into his bed.

“Is he alright then?” Demoman was sat at the table playing Solitaire in the light shining through the window.

“He’s fine… hurt himself pretty good but he’s fine.”

“Hurt himself...?”

“Nothing like that, he tripped and twisted an ankle, he’ll be alright,” Sniper pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbed out the weariness.

“What happened then?” Demo packed the cards up and went to sit beside Sniper, rubbing up and down his back hoping to soothe him.

Sniper considered what he should tell Demo. He didn’t want to lie to him, but Scout’s personal business wasn’t his to share either.

“He was just freaking out again, and I tried to talk to him, but as soon as he tries to tell you what he’s feeling he gets spooked and bolts,”

“Well, at least he can’t go runnin’ off anymore,” Demo chuckled, brushing through the tiny hairs at the base of his head.

“Guess so… “ Demoman kissed the top of his head then left the camper to go back outside, leaving Sniper to himself.

\--


	7. Chapter 7

Three more hours until they reached Boston and every one of the mercenariess was itching to get out of the car. 

Scout was in the back of Medic’s van with his ankle propped up on a folded jacket while the doctor drove with Heavy resting in the passenger’s seat. Luckily Medic had brought a more compact mini medigun with them. It wasn’t strong enough to completely heal his ankle, but for now it would do. 

It had been raining for hours, nothing too intense but just enough to cause a bit of traffic.

The rhythmic sound of the wipers going back and forth coupled with the soft tapping of raindrops as they hit the vehicle was comforting in a way, making Scout wish he had a cup of cocoa and a good movie to enjoy the rainy day with. 

He was calmer than he’d been in days, but he didn’t feel exactly right either. It wasn’t a good calm, it was like his head had been filled with a thick and sweltering fog that clouded his mind almost numbing him to his own thoughts. Scout felt slower than usual, like forming useful thoughts was too much work. He didn’t like it. 

In the other car, Demo sat fiddling with the radio while Sniper drove, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. For a while he kept thinking about Scout and what he did. The harsh kiss that barely lasted two seconds, how soft he felt. 

Of the people he’s kissed in recent years, none were as delicate feeling as Scout. Demo usually guided what went on in the bedroom, and while he was plenty romantic and always took his time, Sniper had never felt anything as vulnerable come from him. Maybe it was just Demo’s confidence when they were together, or Scout’s panic, but something about that kiss was so different from anything he’s experienced before, he couldn’t shake it. 

“So Micky…” Demo started, his hand inching closer the the marksman’s lap. “Would you like some, I dunno, entertainment?” He asked with a grin, his palm sliding down Sniper’s thigh. 

The man chuckled at the question and threw his companion a look. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m alright for now love,” The hand in his lap stopped. 

“Really? Don’t want little bit a’dome to get you goin’?” The scotsman searched his expression beneath the aviators for a sign of playfulness, but found none. 

“Nah, I’m not in the mood for it. We’ll be there soon, only a little while longer.” He said again, and Demo pulled away. 

“Alright, then,” If there was any awkwardness, Sniper didn’t seem to feel it. 

In the catering van, Medic hummed to himself as they drove.

“What’re you singing doc?” Scout wondered aloud after hearing the song on repeat for the previous hour. 

“Hm? A song I wrote, actually. I often play it on my violin,” The older man said, smiling at the other in the rear view mirror. 

“S’pretty.” He said back quietly, staring at the ceiling. Medic drove on for a while, glancing back at him every so often and making a worried face. 

“Scout? How are you feeling?” 

He opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t really know how to. Part of him shouted through his fogged mind to just say he was fine, that he didn’t want to talk. But another part was tired of saying that too, and just wanted to tell the truth. 

“Dunno. I’m just kind of... it’s hard to think. I can’t do much, don’t know how I’m feeling,” He summed up, and felt miserable saying it aloud. 

“Mm.” Medic thought for a moment. “If you want to talk… well, we can you know. And if you don’t, well that’s okay too for now,” He said carefully. If Scout didn’t snap out of this eventually they would have to talk about it, but you also have to just give people time to understand their own feelings as well. 

Scout considered it, but didn’t know what to say. Looking outside, Scout recognized the highway easily. The realization of how close they were made his stomach turn. 

As if reading his mind, Medic spoke over his shoulder to him. 

“We’re almost there. Tomorrow is the burial… Spy called to let us know,” The words were so casual, Scout understood them but there was a disconnect from the actual meaning. 

“Is Spy there already?” He asked, a small amount of jealousy and guilt bubbling up. 

“Yes, he arrived yesterday.” 

“Why wouldn’t he bring me with ‘im?” Scout sneered, the pulse of anger the first strong emotion he’s felt in hours. 

“Spy… has his reasons. Think of who he is as a person. I’m just guessing zhat he wanted to be alone to… deal with his own emotions first. How is he supposed to be zhere for your mother if he hasn’t had time to deal with it himself? He’s a very methodical man, Scout. Probably, he needed to decide in which way to present himself, how to best help in ways he could. And he needed time to help arrange zhings. Knowing him he’ll take care of everything for your family. It wouldn’t be right for your mother to have to organize her own son’s funeral.”

Scout felt the anger inside him melt. That was pretty spot on to how Spy probably thought about this whole thing. He wished he could be angry at the man, or hate him for dating his mom. But at that moment he couldn’t because he was glad someone was there with her. 

\--

Scout’s eyes hadn’t left the window since they exited the highway twenty minutes ago. Familiar places and memories he had forgotten were rushing past him one after another. Buildings that seemed so much taller in his youth made up the skyline in front of them, and he swallowed harshly at the sight of it all. Heavy and Medic commented on it as they drove, but Scout didn’t join in, he just looked out at it all. The old ballpark with no pitcher’s mound, the pizza place that had a family of black cats living out by the dumpster, that creepy apartment with the cameras that was way too close to the elementary school for anyone’s liking. So much of his normal life from before, no guns or blood or mercenaries, just bodegas and bus stops and people walking fast from storefront to storefront to get out of the rain. It felt good. The slow pace of the midwest made him crazy, he could relax at a pace like this. 

“Is it this next turn?” Medic said a little louder. Scout blinked. 

“No, next one, my street’s a one way, so we gotta take the second right then two more rights to get to it.” He said in a practiced way that was less thinking and more muscle memory. The apartment buildings were old here there was no denying it. They didn’t have busted windows or graffiti on the brick, but it’s not like they had a doorman either. Parking was tight, Sniper had to park over a block away paralleled two inches from a rusty sedan with no back bumper. Medic told Scout to get out and they would circle around looking for a spot. 

He stood in front of it like in a dream. How many times had he closed his eyes and imagined coming home? Scout had no idea, but the building seemed less real now than ever. There was some sharp pain radiating from his ankle, but he was used to dealing with things like that by now. 

The brick building had five floors, and they rented the second. On that second floor, last window on the right side was Scout’s room, and if you looked real hard from the sidewalk you could see his world cup poster hung up inside. 

Scout had once tried sneaking out with his friends in the eighth grade by tying his bedsheet to the radiator. He was two feet out the window when the radiator pipe broke and he landed on his head, giving himself six stitches and a concussion on top of it. The doctor said he was lucky it wasn’t much worse. His mother still smacked him for it. 

He pressed a finger to the spot on his head where the small knot of scar tissue could still be felt to make sure it was still there. 

“Scout? You alright?” Sniper and Demoman were beside him. He was getting tired of that question. 

“Yeah, haven’t been here in awhile is all,” He said, moving his feet sluggishly, limping up the few steps to his door. He reached up and took off his dogtag necklace, fingering between the pieces of metal to find his house key that hung there as well. 

It turned with a bit of wiggling, as usual, and they were inside the stairwell. 

“C’mon, second floor.” He said quietly, glancing as they went to look at the old mailbox on the wall. On the second nameplate a faded slip of paper with petite, curly handwriting read “McDermott” 

Once they arrived at the door to his home, Scout took a deep breath and went to knock. Then he realised that this was his own house and he didn’t need to knock, so he moved to turn the doorknob instead. 

Nothing. It was locked. He sighed, forgetting that his mother always kept the front door locked too. So he just knocked. 

A few moments passed, there was a moment where someone glanced through the peephole before two clicks were heard and the door finally opened. 

Spy stood in front of them, looking tired, and sad, but relieved. He was about to say something when another voice interrupted him. 

“Who is it Jean?” A woman’s voice asked. It was soft, and very nasal, with the same sadness and tiredness that they felt from the mercenary before them. 

Spy stepped aside to wordlessly invite them in, smiling gently into the living room as he answered the woman who spoke. 

“See for yourself,” 

She gasped when Scout’s head poking through the doorway, nearly jumping off the worn old couch in her eagerness. 

“Lawrence! Oh my God, Lawrence my baby you’re home!” She shouted and a few more voices could be heard from deeper inside the house reacting to her excitement. 

She rushed to him and almost immediately started crying, arms wrapping around him in a fierce hug. Usually he would smile and blush and beg her to stop, but this time he held his mother back, letting her cry on his shoulder and sob her pain to him. 

Scout never understood the word anguish until he heard his mother’s cries that day. The unbridled pain and suffering coming from her was unbearable. She was shaking and gasping and crying into him, and he couldn’t stop himself from crying too. He sobbed, closing his eyes and balling the fabric of her top in his fist where he hugged her. 

They shared in their upset, his mother asking him why it had to be him, not expecting an answer back. He gasped out that he missed Greg, and she started in on a fresh set of tears. 

A few of his brothers came out from other parts of the house, some coming to join the hug and patting their brother on the back supportively. 

Sniper and Demo were grateful for Spy’s presence, feeling very out of place in the tender moment. 

After a few minutes of collecting themselves, Scout and his mother released each other and she took a few shaky breaths as she looked at her son. 

“Lawrence, I’m so glad to see you, my little man.” Her voice was so raw, it hurt Sniper to hear. 

His brothers chuckled at that. “Aw, little man... long time no see Laurie,” A thin man with red facial hair gave him a playful jab in the ribs. Another strikingly similar looking brother stood at the kitchen entrance watching them all contently. 

“Shut it Lou, don’t call me that,” He jabbed back, but didn’t really mean it as much as he wanted to. “Who else is here, Phil, Louie, are Paul or Brian here?” He asked glancing around the apartment. 

“Paul and the kids are staying in the motel down the road until tomorrow, Lou is staying over for the weekend, and Phil won’t ever freaking move out so he’s here too…” The twin in question protested that accusation half heartedly. “Brian let his ex watch Penny for a few days, so he’s here, but stepped out to grab some smokes, and uh, well Will’s back living with me too now,” His mom said, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “Your room is empty, if you wanna stay here tonight.” 

“Of course I’m staying here, it’s home Ma,” He turned and smiled a little at her, and she began to cry again. 

After she calmed down enough Spy took her hand and kissed it gently, bringing her away towards the door again. 

“Darling, forgive me for interrupting, but since Scout hasn’t, I would like to introduce two of our coworkers who brought him home,” 

At the name ‘Scout’, his brothers made an amused face and the boy grumbled his annoyance. 

“This is our trusted demolitions expert, Tavish Degroot, Scotsman extraordinaire. And this man is ….the head toilet scrubber for our entire facility, an honest and truly devoted professional.” He said, unable to resist the temptation of a quick jab at Sniper’s expense. The Australian sputtered and angrily growled a threat at the Spy. 

“Oh my… well thank you both so much for bringing my boy home to me. It means a lot.” She shook Demo’s hand and looked down at Sniper’s quickly with second thoughts on his digits. 

“I am no ‘ toilet scrubber’ you bloody spook…. M’am I am the team’s Sniper, nice to meet you,” He introduced, and she giggled at the two of them, shaking his hand without reservation. 

“Jean, do you always gotta tease everyone? That mouth of yours is gonna get you in deep trouble one day I swear,” She shook her head and walked towards the kitchen, grabbing Scout on her way inside. 

“Did I say toilet scrubber? My apologies, I forgot that you only piss in little glass jars, my mistake,” Spy snorted and followed after his lover, prompting the other two men to come inside as well. 

Looking around, Sniper didn’t know what to make of the place. His first thought was that there was an excessive amount of photographs for the size of the apartment. Everywhere, in frames hung up around on walls or sitting on side tables, there were some taped to the side of the fridge that were beginning to yellow at the edges. A few had people cut out and others had those people glued back in. There were plenty of Scout scattered throughout the house from various ages in his life. Comparatively the marksman had only two pictures in his van, one of his parents and one of their farmhouse. Looking at all of the smiling faces behind glass made him wish he had a reason for more. 

A heavy looking television set sat in the living room, it’s antennae wrapped in aluminum foil in some attempt to increase the signal. On one wall there was clearly a fist sized hole with a framed picture hung over but not entirely covering it. The home decor was old fashioned and mismatched making it seem like most of it was inherited from friends or found on the sidewalk, but it was inviting and had an odd charm to it. 

In the kitchen there was a table stuffed in the corner with a book under one of the legs, it’s spine read “100 Recipes under Five Dollars” 

Between the obtrusive yellow tile and the thick popcorn ceiling, the place felt as big as a lunch box. Sniper looked past the band of brothers rifling through the fridge and into the hallway, there were four doors which he assumed each led to a bedroom and one bathroom. All in all, not a lot of space for eight boys and their mother. 

“Get outta there you scavengers, if you’re hungry eat this,” Scout’s mother shooed the boys away, reaching into the freezer and grabbing a box of toaster waffles, relinquishing them to Scout. 

“Aw Yeah, my favorite!” He didn’t waste any time, reaching in and pulling one out, shoving the frozen yellow disc into his mouth and taking another before his brother Louis yanked the box away. 

“Aren’t you supposed to cook them things?” Demo asked from his seat at the table, looking somewhat disturbed. 

The younger man shrugged and swallowed. “We don’t have a toaster. And I like them better this way,” 

Sniper chuckled, enjoying seeing Scout back to normal. 

There was a knock at the door that cut through the conversations in the kitchen. 

“That should be Brian now, he’ll be so glad to see you hun,” Linda said, shuffling into the other room to let her son back inside. 

But when she opened the door, Brian wasn’t alone. 

“Uh… hey Ma. These two say they’re friends of Laurie’s…” Behind him stood Heavy and Medic, waving awkwardly in at the others. 

“Oh, yeah I drove here with them they’re my teammates, they can come in!” Scout said through a mouthful of artificial butter flavoring. 

Another round of introductions went by, and the apartment felt more crowded than it had in years. 

“Misha was it? Thank you for bringing my boy back.” His mother said politely, her small hand enveloped in Heavy’s larger one. “Laurence sure is lucky to have so many loyal friends,” 

“Of course, it was no big deal. Anything for our little comrade,” He answered. 

The evening went on with stories and getting to know each other. People from both sides of Scout’s life were there in one room, and it made him feel like he was really at home. 

Even though they were all together for a terrible reason, for the time being it felt good to be happy living inside that small moment and to not think about anything else. 

They started making dinner at some point, boxes and boxes of pasta were thrown in a pot of water and Scout helped his mom crack open a few cans of red sauce, chopping garlic and onion to add in. Spy had gone out to get a few loaves of bread and red wine, and came back to the smell of meatballs frying in a pan and the sounds of laughter and conversation. It seemed so idyllic. 

They were all about to eat dinner together, even if some of the bunch had to sit on folding chairs or eat standing up against the counter, they were all together. Scout’s mother went to the hallway where the bedrooms were located and knocked on the first door. 

“Will, come out for dinner hun. I made you a plate already,” She said. Scout looked up from his seat beside Sniper, he’d been so preoccupied he’d forgotten his brother Will was home. He hadn’t seen him since before he got sent away. 

After a moment, Will emerged from the room. He was built like Scout, but with his mother’s black hair and round face. His brother seemed years older than he remembered, purple under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days and so pale he almost looked translucent. 

They locked eyes and Scout just looked at him. Will smiled. 

“Hey, long time no see,” When he spoke, you could see two buck teeth sticking out further than the rest. 

“Yeah… s’been awhile, huh?” He looked down, then back. “Ya miss me or what?”


	8. Chapter 8

“But ya wanna know what the most fucked up thing about it was?” 

“Watch your mouth young man!”

“What, didja figure out you liked sucking dick after the first week?” 

“Lawrence!”

“I got sent to jail for five whole years of my life, and there was better food, I only had one roommate, and he never stole any of my shit.”

The brothers that were there all laughed, Scout included, and Linda crossed her arms in a huff. 

“Damn… five years,” Scout looked over his brother, shaking his head in disbelief. “Most guys come back from that looking ripped and not skinny like your ass,” 

“And what about you pipsqueak? All this time as a ‘mercenary’ and you’re still Little Laurie,” Phil cooed his name and reached over to ruffle his hair. Scout shoved him away complaining. 

“What are you talkin’ about? I’m huge, look at these bad boys, yeah?” He whipped off his jacket and started flexing for the room, mostly to half hidden chuckles and grins. Sniper smiled, appreciating the normality of his younger friend. It was the first time in a week he’d been able to stop worrying about the kid. 

Sniper allowed himself to look over Scout as he showed off, not that it was anything too impressive muscle wise. But compared to when he first started with the team, Scout had certainly gained a few inches in height, his chest was broader, and his legs were about as toned as they come. He wasn’t a kid anymore, that was for sure. 

“Please Scout, don’t hurt yourself,” Medic snorted, sipping his beer. Heavy chuckled beside him.

“You want to see ‘huge’ ?” The Russian raised his arm, clenching his fist tight and showing off his own rightfully earned strength. The shirt stretched tight over his skin threatening to split at it’s seams. His single bicep was larger around than the Scout’s head, and the power it displayed was terrifying. 

“I do not want to ruin shirt, so I will stop,” He said, and relented with a smirk, leaving a deflated Scout to quietly slip his jacket back on. Medic rolled his eyes fondly while running his foot along his boyfriend’s leg under the table. 

“Well now, he is the Scout. Wouldn’t make sense fer him tae have all that arm strength unless he was runnin’ on his hands.” Demo interjected, bottle of Scrumpy in his grip. 

“Lawrence has always been a string bean, always will be,” Louis commented as he reentered the kitchen. He, Brian, and Spy had stepped outside for a cigarette. 

“Shut up Lou, no I’m not! I’m meant for speed and agility, I gotta be fast, can’t have too much weighing me down. And I’m the best damn Scout there’s ever been, too,” He said, jabbing his thumb into his chest proudly. 

“If you’re the best, how’d you fuck up your ankle like that?” Will asked nodding to the gauze covering his ankle and wrapped around his foot. 

Those who knew what happened looked away from him, and Sniper who knew what /really/ happened clenched his jaw tightly. Things were going so well, why did he have to bring that up. 

Scout blushed a little, hiding his injury under the table some more. 

“Everyone gets hurt, Will. Just because I’m good doesn’t mean I’m invincible.” He played with a beercap on the table between his fingers. 

“How’d you do it? At least tell us it was cool. Get shot in a firefight?” One of his other brothers asked. His mother gasped and looked to Spy, who shrugged. He had no idea how that happened. 

“No, it doesn’t matter. Drop it,” Scout had a terrible poker face. It’s why the mercs never let him in on poker night. They told him he could pick the music instead, but he wasn’t any good with that either. “What’s New Pussycat” got infuriating after the seventh time it played in a row. 

“Come on, did you jump out of a burning building? Kick an enemy in the face?” 

“No, stop asking,” 

“Tell us Laurie! What’s the big deal? Tell us!” Phil and Louis were leaning over and began poking at him and jabbing his sides, pestering him to spill. Their mother stood up to try and break them apart, and Spy tried to interject as well. Scout was pushing them and shoving them away from him, getting more frustrated with every passing second. His brothers knew how to get under his skin better than anyone. 

“Fucking Stop! I just tripped okay?! There was a root or a branch or some fucking thing there and I wasn’t paying attention and I just fell, that’s it!” He was red in the face and he stood abruptly. Tearing away from the group of them. “Are you fucking happy with your answer? Can you leave me alone now?” 

Everyone was quiet, even Linda. 

“Easy Laurie… It was just a jo-” Will started. 

“Stop calling me that! For once just treat me like a goddamn adult, would ya?!” His nostrils were flaring as his anger coiled inside. 

“Calm down Lawrence, don’t talk to them like that,” Brian stepped forward, moving to put a hand on his shoulder, but he smacked it away. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, asshole! You can’t act like I barely exist for my whole life and then try and play older brother when you feel like it!” 

At this point, the others were starting to know where this was headed, but it was hard to know what to do. Everything was just making him angry. Just like last time. 

“Where is /this/ coming from?” Phil asked Lou, and Scout nearly shook with anger hearing that. 

“Act like you don’t exist? How dare you accuse me of that? I was always there for you, you ungrateful jackass!” Brian yelled, stepping closer to him. 

“Boys, stop!” Linda raised her voice, but it went ignored. 

“There for me? No you weren’t! None of you were. I was always alone! Paul left as soon as he turned 18, you knocked up your high school girlfriend and left, but even before then you were way too busy with that slut to ever spend time with me. Phil and Lou beat the shit out of me every day in middle school to prove to their fucking gang where they were loyal, and Will, you and Jimmy were too busy huffing gasoline and shooting up to ever pick me up from school when Ma asked you to!” He was screaming now, anger making his breaths short. 

His mother had begun to cry quietly, begging him to stop. 

“The only one who ever gave a crap about me around here was Greg! And now he’s fucking gone too!” 

“That’s enough!” Spy screamed at him. His mother was sobbing into her palms, she couldn’t take another word. Scout looked at her and inhaled sharply, he felt a wave of nausea at the reality of his actions. 

Pivoting with a painful turn of the heel, Scout darted out of the room, heading outside. He slammed the front door so hard the apartment shook. A few moments later the neighbor downstairs was hitting the ceiling with a broom telling them to quiet down. 

Like a balloon that has suddenly deflated, the room let out a sigh of defeat. 

“I’m sorry, don’t cry my darling, please. No more tears,” Spy was holding her, trying his best to soothe her. 

The rest of the teammates shared another knowing look. Then all of their eyes slid to Sniper. 

He sighed frustratedly, but no more than usual for him. 

“Fine, I’ll go get ‘im.” He downed the rest of his beer and set it on the table, shrugging on his jacket as he stepped out into the hall. 

His brothers acted offended, cursing him and defending themselves quickly, but none would look another in the eye. Each of them excused themselves to their rooms. They felt guilty, even if they didn’t know it themselves. 

“I’m… I’m gonna go lie down,” Linda said, peeling herself from Spy’s chest. “I just need to lie down,” She walked away looking like a defeated woman bearing the world’s weight. 

The assassin let his facade of strength go with her and he plopped beside Demoman with a groan of exhaustion. He rubbed at his eyes, balaclava making his skin feel much too warm. 

“What the hell is his problem?” He asked Medic, rolling his head to address the German.

“Scout has been acting like zhis the whole trip. He has zhese episodes of sadness, zhen anger where he lashes out,” 

Deciding that the coast was probably clear for the time being, Medic leaned up against Misha with a sigh, missing the contact. 

“And Sniper went after him because…?” Spy questioned, this time rolling his head around to look at Demo. 

“For some reason the kid listens to him.” He shrugged. 

“Really? Of all people my son listens to the bushman... “ Spy brought a hand up to massage at his temples. 

\-- 

As he stepped outside of the building, Sniper realised that this may be harder than he first thought it would. Dozens of storefronts and apartment buildings lined the street with numerous alleyways between them, there were cars rushing past in the road with their headlights cutting through the dark, and it was raining heavily while thunder loomed overhead. 

“Piss,” He cursed, his breath creating a puff of fog that dissipated into the sky. But he wasn’t one to let a little bad weather turn him away. 

Without his hat to keep his head dry, Sniper pulled the collar up on his jacket and ventured out into the city, hands stuffed in his pockets to preserve the small amount of heat they still had. 

\--

“Scout! Where are you?!” He shouted, not caring if he seemed crazy to passers-by. His clothes were soaked and he was freezing, the cold making his movements seem slow and uncoordinated. 

He’d checked up and down the street, in every alleyway and behind every dumpster. The stores were closing down one by one, and as their lights were flicked off, Sniper could see less and less. His glasses sat in his shirt pocket, completely fogged over and useless in this rain. Damn his nearsightedness. 

 

“Lawrence!” He shouted one last time into the night, and he waited for a response. 

A quick flash of light flickered behind the dark storm clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance and then the sound of rain enveloped him again. Nothing. 

“God dammit kid, where the hell are you!” He was shivering, walking as fast as he could back the way he came. If he was going to continue this search, he was going to need a few things. 

His van was parked a block away from the apartment and by the time he reached it he couldn’t hold his keys steady without shaking. 

He was trying to get the key aligned with the van door when he realized that he hadn’t even remembered to locked it in the first place. 

“Bugger!” His eyes shot open in fear, praying that all of his belongings were still inside. He fumbled with the door in his hurry, opening it as quickly as humanly possible in his near frozen state.

The door swung open and he rushed in, relieved to see that everything seemed to be in place upon first glance. He didn’t have much to steal, but the idea that someone could have just walked inside his home and he would have lost everything was disturbing him. 

“You should really lock your car in the city, Snipes,” 

“Holy fuck!” The voice startled him, making him jump and back into the small table. He looked up and there in his bed was Scout, a lump under the blankets. His back was to the door and he was curled up in a ball, but the mousy brown hair sticking out from the covers gave it away. 

Sniper didn’t know what to say. He was surprised, and angry. But also relieved and worried. Was he wearing his shoes in his bed?

“Scout, what the hell are you doing in here?!” He asked, trying to swallow most of the anger. 

He received no response. That only served to piss him off further. 

“I’ve been out looking for you everywhere! I’m fucking freezing, worried sick and you’re here in my home hiding away from everyone?” 

 

“Answer me Scout!” He growled, slamming his fist down on the table. 

“...you shouldn’t have bothered.” He said, exhaling slowly. “I’m not worth your time. You shouldn’t have gone looking for me. I-I’m sorry,” 

“Well I was! I went out looking for you and couldn’t find you! And it is infuriating that I have to keep telling you to stop doing this!” Scout turned from where he was and looked at Sniper. He was drenched and looking at him with expectation. 

“Scout, why did you do that? What made you so mad? Everyone there is hurting, your brothers, your mother… You shouldn’t have done that,”

“I know. I shouldn’t have. I-I never wanted to see my Ma like that over something I said…. I know I was wrong,” 

“Then why did you do it?” He asked. 

Again there was silence. Sniper could see him tearing himself apart inside, he looked as guilty as he said he felt. Eventually the older man sighed. He wouldn’t do any good staying as mad as he was. 

“Kid, I’m not mad at you. I’m just cold, and wet. And if it makes no difference to you, I’m going to get changed now,” He said, and began to peel the clothing from his body. 

He dropped his jacket with a plop, cursing quietly at the chill he felt. 

Sniper moved around the van easily, switching a light on, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, and fetching the tea kettle from one of the cabinets. He poured in some water from the canteen hanging behind the door and set it on the stovetop to boil. 

Sniper stripped down to his underwear, a plain pair of white briefs, and then toweled his body off, rubbing at his hair and face. Scout watched him, mostly because there was nothing else to look at. The older man finished with the towel and threw it on the couch, noticing another pile of clothing there that didn’t belong to him. It was Scout’s. 

“Are you naked?” He asked, his voice somewhere between shocked and confused. 

“Um….yeah. My clothes were wet, and I didn’t want to get your bed wet so… uh… you’re welcome?” He said, backing away into the lofted bed. 

Sniper groaned, biting his tongue once again. Instead of responding he went to the drawer below his bed and took out a sweater his mother had sent him and another pair of pants. 

The fresh clothes felt fantastic, warming him up considerably. He rolled on a pair of socks and sat on the couch to wait for his tea, cleaning his glasses while he waited. 

“So. Do you want to talk? Or are you gonna sit there in the buff watching me all night?” He said without looking up. 

Scout pursed his lips, embarrassment welling in his chest. He didn’t want to do this again. 

“What do I do? I don’t wanna go back there, not even because of what I did, I don’t wanna go to that funeral tomorrow. I can’t. I can’t do it Sniper,” He leaned against the wall, beginning to feel miserable again. 

“You have to go, you’d hate yourself if you didn’t.” He said, putting aside his glasses. “And you know that.” 

For some reason Sniper didn’t think his grief was the reason for his upset this time. He thought back to what Scout had said, about nobody caring for him. As hard as it was to hear, it wasn’t the first time Scout had brought up feeling that way. Did he feel that alone all the time? 

“Scout?” He called, but the other just looked away. Sniper got up from his seat and walked over to the bed. 

“Scout, look at me.” And he did, he looked lost. “Come here,” Sniper patted the edge of the bed, and without reason to protest Scout obeyed, scooting up until his legs hung over the edge. 

They observed each other in the moment before Sniper spoke, neither finding the proximity too uncomfortable. 

“I want you to listen, really listen to me,” He said, and looked down, scratching at his stubble while he thought again about what he would say. 

“I don’t know what things were like for you. I can’t even imagine. And I know that right now more than ever, you are feeling alone, and scared, and being home must be hard for you,” Scout began to avert his eyes when he got a feeling that he knew where this was going. He didn’t want to be told to stay strong or power through, or even that everything was going to be okay. 

“Hey, I said look at me.” The younger man begrudgingly brought his gaze back to Sniper’s, waiting for the sorrys and the pity. 

“I need you to know, that you are not alone kiddo. I’ve told you before, but this time I really need you to understand. I care about you, and so do Medic and Heavy and Demo and even Spy. I can’t speak for your family because I don’t know ‘em. But we love you, and no matter what happens, you have us.” Sniper put a hand on Scout’s shoulder. Scout wasn’t expecting it. 

“Even if other people don’t, we will always care about you. And I want you to know that because the next time you begin to feel… put out, like where you need to fight for yourself, just remember that you don’t need them anyways. They don’t matter. The people who do matter are the ones who care,” His hand gave a squeeze. Scout thought about what he was saying, and felt unexpectedly better, but the foreign idea didn’t feel natural in his mind. 

“But what about my family? I just- it’s my family, y’know? How am I supposed to be okay with them not caring?” He thought about his brothers and their complicated relationship. All he ever wanted was their love and recognition, he lived for it. 

“Family is just a collection of people you’re related to. The nice thing about getting older is that you’re not obligated to love someone just because of their relationship to you. You get to choose who earns it. “

Scout liked that idea. He wasn’t completely comfortable with letting go of people, it wouldn’t be easy for him, but he liked how it sounded. The logic behind it was simple, only love people who love you back. It was efficient, really. And as he came around to it, he nodded silently, feeling his anxiety and fear soften.

“I’ll… try that. Thanks.” It was an odd way to end the conversation, and Scout didn’t like the casualness of it. Sniper had just told him he was closer than family and he can barely say thank you? To remedy that Scout leaned forward and awkwardly pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you.” 

After a warm moment the tea kettle began to whistle, and Sniper pulled away to take care of that. He made himself a cup of Earl Grey and set the kettle down on the second burner to cool. 

The time they spent together after one of these talks was tense for a little while, but soon enough it would end and they would be back to normal. It made Scout more uneasy than Sniper, who never had a great ability to sense awkwardness to begin with. 

“So, uh… thanks for coming to find me. Did anyone else go?” 

“Not that I know of. They all figured you wouldn’t talk to ‘em,” He said, blowing at his cup to try and cool it. 

“I’d be mad at that but they’re probably right,” He sighed, cursing himself. 

“So, you planning on heading back at some point, or are you bunking with me tonight?” That question made Scout nearly yelp at the thought, turning a touch pink. He suddenly realized that he was nearly naked in Sniper’s bed, and oh God he must look like such an idiot. Scout pulled the blanket higher up around him, thankful Sniper didn’t seem to care in the least about his nudity. 

“I uh… should get back at some point, I guess,” He said although he really wished he didn’t. Scout was so preoccupied with feeling sorry for himself he didn’t realize how comfortable he had gotten around Sniper, and from thinking about Sniper the memory of their gas station bathroom kiss wandered into his mind and made him feel very hot all over. 

He tried not to think of it and to deal with his possible homosexual tendencies when they were back at the base. But becoming aware of how naked he was and the sight of Sniper’s sheets pooled around his waist made him want to ignore that bit of advice and take this whole gay thing for a ride. 

He imagined the other ways he could have ended up in that bed, not that he knew the specifics of how that sort of thing worked, but the idea of it made his chest tingle anyways. Scout leaned back against the wall and swallowed nervously, almost afraid to let his thoughts continue but unwilling to relinquish this feeling. He imagined Sniper’s rough stubble scratching at his neck, how nice it would feel in his hands, on against his stomach perhaps. 

That train of thought made the boy suck in a shaky breath, bringing his knees up to hide his crotch from the owner of the bed he sat in. 

“Everything alright?” Sniper interrupted his daydreaming, but just hearing the low accented pur of Sniper’s voice made him bite his lip in response. 

“Y-Yeah, fine,” Sniper narrowed his eyes, confused at the tone change. That most certainly didn’t sound sad or even like a lie to cover sadness. Looking him over, if wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. Knees pulled up, hands fingering the sheets, he had wide eyes and an incriminating blush, Scout was aroused. 

Sniper was caught between finding it amusing and worrying, because while he would love to tease the kid about this, his confession of feelings the day before had Sniper worried this would go down a bad road. 

To test it, he audibly took a sip of his tea, then let out a long and satisfied groan, watching Scout for a reaction. 

Sure enough, at the sound Scout’s eyes bulged and he looked over at Sniper then quickly averted his gaze, lips tight. The marksman smirked, feeling a little flattered with the reaction he was given. Scout never had a good poker face. 

The idea of Scout in his bed, completely naked and blushing, thinking of nothing but him made Sniper’s stomach flip. He couldn’t… it wouldn’t be right to try anything with him, especially now. But picturing the younger man beneath him, panting and moaning while Sniper took control… it made his cock throb to think about. 

He forced another gulp of hot tea down his throat, appreciating the burn as it brought his thoughts out of the gutter. He would not do that. 

“Um… Sniper?” The voice wasn’t the usual know-it-all Scout voice. This was quite, shaky, and breathless. It made Sniper’s mouth water. 

“Hm?” He tried to focus on his drink, playing idly with the tea bag. 

“Could I… ask you something… L-Like a favor maybe?” He said, not looking at him. Sniper swallowed and felt his heart pound in his chest. He was dreading the question, but also partly hoping it was what he thought it would be. 

“Yeah, what’s that?” Scout took a breath in and ran his hands through his hair, considering things. 

‘Please don’t’ Sniper thought, fearing what would happen. 

“Can w-we… try that kiss again?” It was said so quietly and quickly that Sniper wondered if he’d really heard it. “Just one. It won’t mean anything I promise,” He added, and it made Sniper feel guilty that Scout believed he didn’t want him so badly. 

“Scout… “ He groaned, putting his drink down on the table. 

“Just one, please I need it,” He said, and the desperation in those words had Sniper clenching his fists to keep from jumping him. 

And maybe it was the sound of his voice, or the fact that Sniper’s reserve only could stretch so far, but he let out a breath of defeat and got up from the couch. 

“Yes. Okay,” He said, stepping up to the bed. Scout was speechless for a moment, then blinked and pulled the blankets up so they hid anything he didn’t want being seen. 

Sniper waited for him to come closer to the edge of the bed, moving forward so that Scout’s legs were on either side of his hips. The position sent sparks through Sniper and he held himself back from placing his hands on Scout’s waist. 

They looked at one another and Scout was shaking with a combination of excitement and fear, determined to do this now that he was so far in. 

Scout looked like he was about to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Sniper’s hand moved slowly up to cup his jaw, so smooth and soft and then his thumb ran across Scout’s lip. Scout hadn’t realised how close they had gotten, he could feel Sniper’s breath on him now and he wanted to savor every second of it. 

“Close your eyes,” Sniper whispered, and Scout obeyed, the anticipation making his heart pound. 

Slowly their lips met. There was no banging of teeth or sharp stubble and no harsh force. It was soft, and then Sniper moved, kissing him deeper. His hand moved to the back of Scout’s head, buried in his hair. 

Scout made a soft noise he wasn’t even aware he could make, kissing back tentatively, not wanting to ruin this one kiss. 

They took their time, slowly Scout’s hands made their way to Sniper’s face and their chests pressed together, both craving more contact. The languid kisses were driving Sniper crazy with need, and he softly caught Scout’s bottom lip between his teeth, the teasing gesture making Scout groan. 

Soon Scout gained enough confidence to try and use his tongue in their so far chaste exchange. Sniper smiled into their kiss, the inexperienced way Scout moved becoming more apparent the further they went. 

Once Sniper returned the favor, Scout’s toes curled in pleasure, unsure of how the older man could be so good at this. In his mind Sniper knew he needed to stop before this ‘one kiss’ turned into something he couldn’t just brush aside, but the thrill of being with someone so reactive was too strong. 

They stopped for a breath, or more accurately Scout pulled away to pant against Sniper’s shoulder. The marksman settled his mouth on Scout’s bare neck, sucking and kissing his way across the pale expanse of skin. 

“Fuck… Snipes…” The keening moan made Sniper’s eyes roll back in his skull, this kid was going to be the death of him. “More… please I want more,” 

The calloused hands gripped his hips beneath the sheets, pulling him closer until both could feel the full extent of their arousals.

Sniper backed off of his neck, pulling away to admire the stark contrast of his skin and the purple love bites he had marked him with. The sight of Scout, hazy with lust and begging for him was beautiful, and Sniper wanted more. 

They kissed again, this time without the gentleness of before. Sniper just kept going and going and Scout had to try and keep up, completely lost in the pleasure. Their bodies moved together, hips grinding against one another in a way that was barely enough to satisfy the want. 

Again they broke, both panting and grasping at anything they could. Sniper couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this amount of urgency, everything in him needed Scout, needed him to buck against him and pant out his name. 

“Fuck,” Sniper pushed him back onto the bed and within seconds he was back on him, this time moving down to tease his nipples, licking and sucking on one while rubbing circles around the other. 

Scout watched him and the sensation combined with the sight of Sniper looking up as he licked Scout’s pert nipple was almost too much to bear. He let out a string of curses, his voice high and needy. 

Whenever Sniper’s mouth left Scout’s the younger boy would begin mindlessly panting whatever he was thinking, which was not at all a problem for Sniper until Scout began to loudly moan.

“Fuck me, oh fuck me, please I want it so bad,” Breathlessly he begged, not even sure what it was that he wanted but just knowing he needed something more. Nothing had ever felt so good in his life than being completely ravaged by this man. 

While his cock throbbed almost painfully from hearing those words, a big red flag went up for Sniper that cleared his head from most of the lust. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, kid,” He said, moving back up to kiss him, needing to taste him again. Scout eagerly complied, his legs moving to hold Sniper’s waist as he hovered over the boy. 

They ground against one another and Sniper could only imagine how good it would feel to be buried inside of him, holding Scout’s legs down and watching his cock disappear into him.

“Oh God that feels so good, please Sniper, I need more,” His hands were at Sniper’s pants rushing to get them around his knees. But the older man caught his hands and brought them up, pinning them above his head. 

“Scout… “ He choked out between kisses so intense and deep it was like he needed them to breathe. “I… I want you...I do...but not tonight… I-I can’t, it’s not right,” Sniper finally said, releasing Scout’s hands gently. 

“Why not? You feel so fucking good, why not tonight? I want it, and I know you do too,” He argued, emphasizing his point by pressing against him. Sniper shivered at the sensation of his rock hard erection against his hip and took a steadying breath. 

“Because… because we agreed to just one kiss…. And this is already much more than that,” He said, sitting back to get more room between them. 

Scout sat up and backed himself against the van’s wall, looking at Sniper with wide eyes. 

“So? We were having a good time, why can’t we just keep going?” Scout was starting to sound panicky, and Sniper inched closer to him. 

“Because I won’t be able to stop myself… I’m not doing this because I didn’t want it,” He said, and gestured to his pants that were stretched tight over his erection. “Obviously I fucking wanted it… “ He sighed, but saw Scout smile at that. 

“Scout, this is uh… I don’t know. I’m just really not sure how to feel,” He rubbed the back of his neck and Scout let out a breathy laugh. 

“You’re not sure how to feel?! I just kinda figured out that I am in fact very gay and really enjoy kissing dudes,” He drew his knees up again, holding them against his chest. “So now I gotta deal with that,” There was a small amount of pride Sniper felt for being able to do that, but he also understood how hard it was. 

“How’re you taking it so far?” He asked, and Scout sent a very pointed glare his way. 

“Well if you really wanna know, I just made out with my best friend for the first time ever and it was getting real fucking good, he was licking my nipples and doing shit that I never would have thought I’d be into... And he doesn’t even have his pants off yet and I feel like I could cum just from the way he’s grinding into me and all of a sudden he stops and tells me he doesn’t know how to feel about it. So I’m just great!” He grumbled, blushing as he thought of what they did. Sniper wanted to lay him out and finish what he’d started but knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. “But… I’m not mad… I just asked for a kiss, and you have Demo and everything… So I get it,” 

At Demo’s name Sniper swallowed guilty. He hadn’t even thought of what Demo would think. What was he going to do?

“Hey Snipes, was I terrible, for a first time gay?” He asked, and Sniper rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t call it that first off… And no, you weren’t terrible. Actually, it was really quite enjoyable if I’m telling the truth.” He said. Even in his head he knew it was more than enjoyable, but he didn’t want to think about the implication that had. 

“Yeah?” Scout grinned. “So we could do it again?” He asked, always willing to push his luck. Sniper loved the idea of a repeat performance, but morally he objected to it. 

“I don’t know Scout... “ Sniper really thought the kid was trying to kill him, but it would be a hell of a way to go. “It’s a maybe at best, I gotta think about some things first,” 

“Awesome!” He said, his face beaming with anticipation for the next time they would fall into bed together. “So uh, just so I know for next time… how do two guys even do it?” 

Sniper gave him a deadpan stare. After all of these years he still didn’t know? The smile he wore was a testament to his innocence. 

He leaned over and whispered the answer into Scout’s ear, and his smile fell right off. 

“Seriously?” Sniper nodded. “Oh.” He was quiet, and he was blushing too. 

“And that feels good?” 

“Very,” said Sniper.

“But how do you even-”

“No more questions, please ask someone else,” He said, the guilt from wanting to fuck someone who was obviously so much younger than himself beginning to set in. 

“Fine.” Scout slumped back. They looked at each other, obviously still aroused but unwilling to try and go further. Sniper could barely rip his gaze away from the purple hickeys he left all over Scout’s collar bone. He hadn’t been this horny in a long time. 

 

“Kiddo you should go back,” Sniper sighed, thinking of how long it’s been. 

“Aw, Why?” He asked and pouted a little, not that he meant to. 

“Because you’re Mum is probably worried sick, plus you owe her an apology, and also because I feel like another five minutes and you’re gonna try and start things again…” He said, and Scout laughed. 

“Yeah, probably,” Scout hopped down, giving Sniper a fantastic view of what he would label the nicest ass he’s ever seen. He had to check to make sure his jaw didn’t actually drop at the sight of it. All of that running sure was good for something. 

He started to dress himself again, feeling much better than when he’d arrived. 

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, zipping up his jacket. “And you promise things won’t get weird between us?” 

“Promise. I’ll see you in the morning Lawrence,” He said, and before Scout left he jumped up and kissed Sniper one last time. 

“Night!” And with that he was gone. 

“The kid’s gonna kill me,” Sniper groaned, collapsing into his bed. 

On the way back from the camper, Scout ran into Demoman heading out to Sniper. It was still raining out, but less violently than before. 

“There you are lad, everything alright?” He asked. Scout nodded, wondering what Sniper would tell Demo about what happened. 

“Yeah, Sniper talked to me. Sorry about that before,” He said, and Demo shrugged. 

“Didn’t bother me none, but I’m glad you’re feelin’ better.” 

They parted ways and Scout made it back to his home, anxious about seeing his family. Spy greeted him at the door. 

“Do you have anything to say?” He asked Scout.  
“To my Ma, yes. To you, not really,” Spy looked offended and walked away, leaving Scout to himself. On the couch his mother was curled up under a blanket, sleeping soundly. He went to her and kneeled beside her, touching her arm. 

“Ma?” She stirred and blinked a few times before recognizing him. 

“Baby you’re home,” She said softly, still looking worn out. 

“Ma, I’m sorry about the things I said earlier. You always worked so hard for all of us, you always care.” She smiled, stroking his face. “The one thing I never wanted to do was make you cry, and I went and blew it. I’m so sorry Ma please forgive me.” 

She shushed him and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, it’s okay. I’m sorry you ever felt that way, I wish you would have told me baby… I’m your Mom and you’re my little man, I’m always gonna care about you no matter what. There’s nothing you can do to change that.” He smiled and hugged his mother, understanding that she needed him as much as he needed her. 

“Now go to bed, we have an early day,” 

Scout left her there and went inside to his bedroom, the same old bunkbed and posters. He flicked on a baseball lamp in the corner and changed into pajamas, looking at himself in the mirror. 

The purple marks on his collarbone shocked him at first, then he was embarrassed because he’d only ever seen ladies and Medic with hickeys on them before. But then as he ran his fingers over the splotches he felt pride swell inside him. 

He bit his lip, replaying what had just happened over and over until he was lying in his bed with tented pajama pants. 

“Fuck I’m so gay…”


	9. Chapter 9

Scout awoke from a pleasant dream, smiling lazily at his ceiling. Slowly he became aware of the muffled sounds of people moving around in the kitchen and slowly sat up in his bed, yawning. 

Suddenly he remembered what today was, and what he was there for. His chest suddenly felt heavy, he didn’t want to be awake anymore. It was strange how his body was reacting to his emotions. Scout felt slow, numb, like he was watching what was happening but not actually there. He tried to shake his head to clear it, he didn’t want to feel foggy. Even if it meant feeling sad. He didn’t want to ignore what was happening or shut down, he needed to be there today. 

Scout took a shower, combed his hair, and found his suit all ready for him in his closet. His mother had gotten it dry cleaned for him, he had to remember to thank her for that. 

Looking at himself in the mirror, he wanted to think he looked good in a suit. It was a little smaller than he remembered, but then again, it had been big on him when he first got it. 

He had needed to go to court for something, maybe a speeding ticket, maybe punching some jerk in the face a couple dozen times. He had blown his last chance, he was facing jail time and a hefty fine he had no way of paying. After taking two steps out of the courthouse a petite young woman with dark, neatly styled hair and thick black glasses approached him holding a clipboard in her hands. A month later he was on a bus to Arizona. 

The last part of his ensemble was the tie, which he held without the slightest idea of how to put on. 

Scout sighed and knew he would have to ask for some help unless he wanted to look like a complete idiot. 

He walked out into the kitchen and the first person he saw was Medic, in a similar outfit, walking around helping get things ready. Ready for what, Scout didn’t know. 

Medic looked so different, less maniacal and more normal than Scout had ever seen him. The suit fit him perfectly, his shoes were shined and he didn’t have his usual gloves on, revealing well maintained nails and a very handsome middle aged man. 

His mother was chopping up some vegetables and arranging the on a platter. She too was dressed beautifully, a simple black dress with a grey shawl around her shoulders. She had no makeup on, or maybe she had already cried it off, but she looked beautiful nonetheless. 

“Lawrence, oh good you’re ready. You look so handsome baby,” She said, and he smiled at her softly. 

“Thanks Ma. What are you guys doing out here?” He asked, looking around at platters of appetizers covered in plastic wrap and his brothers actually cleaning the house for once. 

“After the… service, everyone is coming back here for dinner. We have to get things set up for later. Speaking of which, could you get the little paper plates out of the back closet and put the tablecloth on the dining room table for me?”

She seemed so normal. Scout thought that was even worse than her showing her grief today. She was shutting it out. 

“Yeah, sure I can. Let me know if there’s anything else,” He said, and squeezed her shoulder before he passed into the hallway. 

He grabbed the things his mother had asked for and set them out, not knowing what to do for the remaining time before they left. He held his tie in his hand, still unable to put it on. 

“Scout, do you need a hand with that?” Spy always seemed to appear from nowhere so Scout was used to it by now, and instead of sounding smug, the older man looked genuine. Scout looked between him and the tie before nodding. 

“You look good Scout, if only our Miss Pauling could see you now, hm?” He said, and took the tie from him before starting on his task, flipping Scout’s collar up and sliding the fabric around his neck. Scout chuckled at the irony of that now, wondering what Spy would think if he knew what Scout had done last night. 

Spy had switched the red balaclava for a silky looking grey version that complimented his suit. As always he looked suave and handsome, the perfect marriage of effortless and intentional. 

“There you are,” Spy pulled back and deemed the work acceptable, almost impressed with how well Scout cleaned up. 

“How are you...doing?” He asked, one hand still on Scout’s collar. The runner shrugged, not wanting to put too much thought into that question. 

“Dunno, alright I guess,” He gave half an answer half an excuse, silently appreciating Spy’s willingness to be there for his family. 

“Good… Good.” Spy looked away, drawing his hand back. “We should leave soon, I’ll go get your mother.” 

“Okay...thanks Jean,” Scout walked outside to get some air before they left, plus he didn’t feel like seeing his brothers. He assumed similar driving arrangements to the way they got to the house, Spy and his mother together and then his brothers driving maybe in Brian’s car. 

Outside the rest of his coworkers were waiting to go, standing around the cars chatting idly. 

He walked up to them without a word, and none of the three seemed to know what to say either. Sniper had his aviators on, and his poker face revealed nothing of his thoughts. 

Other than the glasses, his outfit was proper and professional. He had forgone the tie, opting for just a sports coat and button up shirt. Scout wondered if he even owned a tie.

“Scout, you look nice,” Heavy commented. It was surprising to see that not only did they make suits in his size, but the Russian giant looked quite nice in fact. His normally overwhelming presence was now dressed in flattering fabric tailored to his body. 

“Thanks man, you too,” He said honestly. “Spy said we’re gonna get goin’ soon. Who am I drivn’ with?” He asked. Of course he had a preference for the marksman, but if he was stuck with Heavy and Medic, he wouldn’t mind. 

“Ya wanna come with us?” Demo was the one who spoke, and Scout looked to Sniper for approval. 

The Australian took a moment to react, his pulse shooting up at being put between Demo and Scout. 

“Well ya don’t need to ask me. It’s your choice Scout,” He said just a touch quickly, and fought the urge to pull out a cigarette. 

“Yeah, right. Sounds good.” He said, avoiding Sniper’s gaze and kicking the ground with his good foot. 

The door to the apartment swung open and Medic walked down the front steps, followed by a parade of every other resident of Scout’s home. Spy followed after and locked the door behind them. The fact that Spy had a key to his home only bothered Scout slightly. 

“You all have the address?” Brian came up to the group of Scout and his coworkers. “Lawrence, can you get everyone where they need to go?” He asked, and his brother nodded. 

“Okay, we’ll see you there,” 

They separated into the cars, Demo retreating into the back of Sniper’s van while Scout rode in the cabin. Sniper seemed on edge from the moment they got inside the van. Although he hadn’t intended to he was making Scout feel terribly guilty. 

The ride was quiet at first, but as they drove along, watching the town he had grown up in on such a sad day was starting to make Scout’s chest ache. He didn’t want to look outside, but he didn’t want to force Sniper to speak to him either. It was having to pick between feeling guilty and feeling like sobbing. He eventually picked the former and decided to try and talk to his friend again. 

“Uh, hey,” He started. 

“Hey Scout,” Sniper responded, sighing quietly after. 

“So, um. Did you tell…?” He trailed off, obviously referring to the man in the other part of the vehicle. 

“No.” It was a short response. He seemed so angry and Scout wanted to yell at him for that. Last night he’d said things wouldn’t be different. 

“Snipes, are you mad at me?” He asked, playing with the tip of his tie idly. He didn’t particularly like the conversation.

Sniper took a breath and glanced at Scout. The sad look on his face brought him out of his head and into what was really going on today. He wasn’t mad at the kid, it wasn’t his fault. But he also didn’t want to talk about this at the moment, as the main reason for his upset was just feet away and unassuming about the whole situation. 

“Kiddo, I ain’t mad. We’ll talk about everything… some other time. Not right now though, alright?” He asked, and opened his hand for the other to take as a sign of his honesty. 

Scout tentatively placed his hand in Sniper’s, feeling a bit better at the contact. 

The drive wasn’t a long one, and as the rounded the corner and started down the street to the funeral home Scout’s grip on Sniper’s hand got increasingly tight. 

After he found a parking spot and turned off the engine, they both sat in their seats for a second and said nothing. 

A crowd of people Scout could somewhat recognize stood around the entrance, waiting for the service to begin. He suddenly did not want to get out of the car. 

“Hey, you gonna be okay?” Sniper ran a thumb over his hand and Scout turned to look at him. 

The runner has always worn his heart on his sleeve. He was reactive and explosive and couldn’t tell a lie if his life depended on it. Sniper could see his hurt, his confusion and his fear. He saw it in the unshed tears in his eyes, he saw it in the way the younger man gripped his hand like a lifeline. He saw it in every ounce of Scout’s person, that his heart had broken when he heard his mother on the phone all those days ago, and now it had to break again. 

His lower lip quivered and he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Scout’s memories had begun washing over him with waves of emotion that shook him to his core. Before he could stop it, a whimper from his mouth became a cry, and the tears began to fall. 

He took his hand from Sniper and covered his mouth, but it did little to muffle his cries of agony. He cried for his brother, for all of the love that he had given Scout, he cried for his life, for everything it could have been. He cried for all of the possibilities that could no longer be, for the Christmases and Birthdays that will be missing someone. He sobbed and gasped, shaking from the intensity of it all. He couldn’t breathe, his heart felt like it was being torn in two. 

Sniper could do nothing but rub his head and try to talk to him. This wasn’t anger, this wasn’t the Scout that had been running away and fighting his emotions. He was finally letting himself be hurt. 

He cried out for his brother, he apologized hopelessly for nothing and to no one. Sniper just listened, petting his head gently. 

Scout gasped for breath, rubbing at his face to get rid of the tears. He wanted to go inside, he needed to see his mother and to cry with her. 

Scout paused his grief long enough to breath and compose himself while he focused on the gentle hand fingering through his hair. 

“Let’s go,” He said, his voice raspy and thick at the same time. They got out of the van and before they went to join the crowd, Sniper pulled Scout against him in a tight hug. 

It took a good amount of willpower not to start bawling again, but Scout managed to just squeeze him and shakily bring in a few breaths, feeling a bit stronger once they broke apart. 

In the crowd outside there were his aunts and uncles, his mother’s friends, cousins and neighbors, acquaintances. So many people had come to pay their respects, so many faces that he had forgotten. They murmured together, remembering him together, mourning him through the retelling of memories with each other. People who worked with Greg, high school teachers, old friends and enemies alike. 

As he waded through the crowd, many of the people approached him offering their condolences. He nodded and thanked them briefly, giving a hug and a handshake or two as they went. An older woman with cigarette stained teeth commented with a sad smile on how big Scout had grown since the last time she’d seen him.

Sniper stood beside him with a stony expression, sunglasses covering his gaze. He waited patiently for Scout to make his way inside and then stopped before the door, nudging the boy to go inside without him. 

As soon as he stepped inside the quiet murmuring from the crowd faded into nothing. The air seemed thick with the scent of flowers. It wasn’t refreshing or sweet, it was heavy and overwhelming and mouth taste funny. 

His close family was inside along with Spy, who had one arm around Scout’s mother. The hallway in which they stood had doors lining each side, one labeled office, one labeled children’s area, and a few that had the plaque inscribed “Viewing Room” on the front.

He had been told that Greg was in Viewing Room 2. 

Scout walked up to his family, and someone put their arm around his shoulder to give him a squeeze. Scout was having a hard time focusing on what was happening, he couldn’t stop looking at the door. 

“Are you ready to go inside?” One of his brothers asked, sounding unsure. They had a few minutes to be alone with the body before everyone else was allowed inside. 

As Scout, his mother, and six of her boys filed into the room, not a single one of them was ready to finally say goodbye.

It was an open casket, but Scout found himself avoiding going up to it. He looked around the room, at all the floral arrangements, all of the cards and pictures that had been set up to show his life and celebrate him. Scout picked up a prayer card, one that had Greg’s name printed above a hand picked bible passage about losing someone too soon. He read it a few times and stuck it in his pocket, feeling the laminated plastic poke against his leg.

He walked all around, not looking at his crying mother, or brothers. He examined the guest book and the crucifix on the wall, but he was unable to bring himself to the polished wooden casket that housed his brother. 

He was in front of a bunch of pictures of the large family. This one was from some holiday party. Scout looked upset, holding up a hand-me-down sweater There was wrapping paper everywhere and Greg was laughing, his mother was smiling. 

“So many pictures, I can hardly believe your mother kept all of them,” Spy was beside him, admiring the collection. 

“Yeah… she always had the camera out… always telling us to smile,” Scout answered, and they walked together. It felt good to have a person there, even if it was just Spy. It helped him stay present. They didn’t talk, only the occasional smile and gesture at one picture or another. 

Eventually they walked to the front, side by side. The casket was so beautiful, and covered in flowers, Scout put a hand on it to feel the smooth coolness. 

After a steadying breath he gathered his courage and raised his gaze to look inside. For a moment, he didn’t recognize him. And he stood there, looking at him, remembering him.   
He saw corpses every day, his friends and enemies, even his own from time to time. But there was always a promise that those would disappear, and that no one was really hurt or dead. To look down and see his brother lying there as if he were asleep and think that he will never wake up, it was so foreign to Scout. He tentatively reached in and touched his brother’s hand.

It was cool and unmoving and Scout wanted to both rip his hand away and never let go. But after a while he did let go, he gave his brother a squeeze, and drew his hand back. Scout was crying as he did, because he knew it was the last time he’d ever feel his brother’s hand in his own. 

Spy stood beside him, not close enough to pry, and he closed his eyes in respect. 

Scout spoke softly to his brother, and said his goodbye. 

\--

As the pair walked away from the casket, Spy looked to Scout with a sad smile. 

“You look nothing like your brother,” He said, trying to lighten the mood. Scout smiled back, sniffling. 

“Yeah, I know. Ma always said I look just like my Dad,” 

\-- 

The service went quickly, and the rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur. Scout always expected to run out of tears, but even as they drove away from the cemetery, he was leaning against the window crying quietly. 

Back at his house there were people shoved in every corner, holding a little plate of food and sharing conversation. He spent some time in the living room, talking to family and lifting his mood. For the first time in a long time it felt good to remember. It was fun to think of happy times again, it brought a smile to his face to talk about his brother’s life. 

The team had decided to go out for a drink while the party was going on, with the exception of Spy and Scout of course. They wanted to give the family their space and they were afraid that any more people in the house and the floor would cave in. 

They would be out until late, and Scout was completely worn out from the day. He snuck off to his room and collapsed into the bed, throwing the tie off as he went. He sighed heavily as he let his body slump, rubbing his puffy eyes. In record time he was out, snoring softly and wrinkling his suit to hell.


	10. Chapter 10

The cars were packed and idling in front of the apartment even before the sun had peeked over the city skyline. Medic and Sniper had polished off two rounds of coffee between themselves before Spy managed to wrestle the pot away for everyone else. 

Scout and his family were weary and drained, even after a night of sleep. His brothers all said their goodbyes and immediately went back to bed, while his mother was taking leftovers out of the fridge and making to-go plates of food for each of the mercenaries. They all accepted them graciously. 

“I really, can’t thank you boys enough for bringing my Lawrence home, you’re all family as far as I’m concerned,” She said, placing each serving in a spare cooler Sniper found in his van. Scout smiled at that, feeling his chest swell with pride for his friends. 

“Of course Linda, we were happy to help,” Medic went and gave her shoulder a squeeze, but she knocked it away and crushed him in a hug instead. Medic made a startled noise that everyone chuckled at before hugging her back gently. 

Each of the men was given a hug and then they filed out, leaving Scout and Spy in the home. 

“My dear, it has been a pleasure as always,” Spy took her hand and kissed it sweetly, smiling up at her with adoration. She laughed cheesily, pulling him up and giving him a proper kiss. Scout rolled his eyes and waited for the show to be over, but was secretly happy to see his mother smiling. 

Spy whispered something in her ear that made her smack his arm playfully and left her with the promise to visit soon. 

She turned to her son and smiled sadly, looking like she wanted to cry. Scout quickly came in and hugged her, feeling like a child again. 

“Oh, I’m gonna miss you baby,” She said, petting his hair softly. “Call me once in awhile, ‘kay?” Scout nodded, promising to give her a ring once they got back to the base, and regular updates on his life. 

Scout joined the others outside, and his mother stood at the top of the stoop in her robe and slippers, waving to the two car caravan as they drove off. Scout waved back, watching his home get smaller and smaller as they drove away, his heart feeling heavy. 

Slumping against the window, Scout closed his eyes and tried his best to fall back asleep. He was sitting in the passenger seat of the catering van as Medic was driving and enjoying the emptiness of the morning road. Dawn came quickly, and with it came the traffic. Luckily they were out of the city by rush hour. 

Scout kept falling in and out of sleep. He would close his eyes and open them an hour later, thirty minutes later, ten seconds later, and then he would blink and another two hours passed. Finally he decided to just stay awake, stretching his limbs as far as the vehicle would allow then sitting up straight with a yawn. 

“Where are we?” He asked looking around. It was around noon, and they were cruising along a highway somewhere, but other than those clues Scout was lost. 

“Hmm... maybe Connecticut?” Medic responded, blinking a few times to alert himself. He looked tired of driving, and Scout felt a little guilty for passing out as soon as they left. 

“So, should we take a break soon?” He asked, and the doctor visibly relaxed at those words and nodded. Scout put on his headset and pressed the talk button, glancing at the van in their side view mirror. 

“Hey guys, wanna take a break? Get some air?” 

\--

Sniper and Demo had been driving along, neither of them saying much. Demo could feel something was off, but didn’t know what it was. The marksman was never one to chatter on for hours, but this silence was different. Like when you fight with a close friend and then spend time with them. 

“Dee, you feelin’ okay?” Demoman asked. They had never been in a fight before, and this discomfort was different from anything they’d been through together. The other man didn’t show any sign of reaction to Demo’s question. The bomber knew that Sniper took his time to answer and he was willing to give him that. The pause in conversation was long, and Demo thought he had forgotten about it by the time Sniper finally coughed to clear his throat. 

“Somethin’s been on my mind recently… yeah,” He admitted, feeling the guilt form a knot in his throat. Demo raised an eyebrow, fully expecting a nonchalant answer. He ran through what could be causing the discomfort, but came up empty after realizing he didn’t know what Sniper’s insecurities were. 

“Something serious then?” He asked. There was another lapse. 

“...I dunno. Yeah. I guess yeah,” He choked out. Demoman liked to think he was better at ‘serious’ conversations than most men, but trying to have one with Sniper was proving very difficult. 

“You gonna tell me, or do I hav’ta guess?” He sighed, rubbing his face. To that, Sniper opened his mouth helplessly. Demo sighed heavier and tried to really think about it. 

“Something with your parents? Did the funeral bring that back up?” He tried, but Sniper shook his head. 

“Does it have to do with work?” Another negative response. 

“Is it me?” He asked, and the marksman glanced over before shaking his head. It wasn’t Demo’s fault at all. The fact that he would think that made Sniper feel even worse. 

“Well then what is it Dee?” He asked, exasperated. 

“Hey guys, wanna take a break? Get some air?” The second headset sounded from it’s position around Demo’s neck. He was taken by surprise by the voice, but looked to Sniper for confirmation. 

“Yeah, let’s take a break,” He said, sinking back in his seat. Demo relayed the decision and the group of men planned to grab some fast food and take a short pause. 

\--

Within a few minutes Sniper was halfway through a cigarette, leaning against his van and cursing himself for his actions. He didn’t want to get in that car with Demoman. The truth needed to be told, and Sniper wanted to be honest with the man. 

“Hey Snipes,” Scout appeared from the other side of the van, stretching out his limbs as he walked. “You gonna come get some food?” 

“Uh, maybe. Dunno.” He muttered, flicking ash to the ground. Scout frowned, stepping a bit closer. 

“You haven’t eaten at all today man,” 

“Scout, I’ll eat when I’m hungry,” He closed his eyes behind his glasses, trying to will the smaller man away. 

“We’re not gonna stop for a while, you should come inside,” Scout’s intention was innocent, but it was grating on Sniper’s nerves. 

“Kid just leave me be and piss off for once, will ya?” He grumbled. Scout was confused, and a little hurt by his words. Before they were close Sniper would act like that, telling him to leave and wanting nothing to do with anyone. The fact that he would be that way now after everything, it really hurt the runner. 

“Well fine, if you’re gonna be that way fuck you too then…” He turned around to walk off, knowing himself well enough to hide his puckered lip. 

“That’s some way to treat a guy who’s just tryin’ to be your friend. Real nice Snipes, real fuckin’ nice,” He said, kicking a rock at his feet as he walked away. He knew it was childish, and he knew he was overreacting, but when had that stopped him before? 

Sniper rolled his eyes behind his glasses and bit back the urge to yell back at the kid, pulling on his cigarette a little longer. He didn’t want anything to do with him in that moment, he wanted to be alone. 

\--

Inside the truck stop food court, the men were sitting with their greasy food, chowing down and enjoying not being in a moving vehicle for a while. 

When Scout walked in he had calmed down a bit, but only slightly. He grabbed a burger from the stack in the middle of the table and went to town on it, leaving his table manners with his mother. Medic raised an eyebrow in distaste at his hastiness, but shrugged it off, glad to see the younger man eating again. 

“Snipers a real prick sometimes man,” He vented, unable to hold back. For Scout, anger needed to be let out in some way, usually it was by running, or fighting, or doing something equally as mindless, but right then he needed to let the words escape and complain a little. 

“Why do you say that?” Heavy asked. Scout wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then pointed with it. 

“Because I just went out there and asked the guy to come inside and you know what he does? He tells me to piss off! Can you believe that? I dunno what his freakin’ deal is today…” Scout paused his animated rant and grabbed two fries, dipping them in ketchup before tossing them in his mouth. 

“Seriously, last week he was my best friend, being all nice and fun, then all of a sudden he dries up like a fuckin… fuckin… what are those things? Prunes? Yeah, Like a goddamn prune!” Scout gave everyone at the table a good view of the fries in his mouth as he spoke, and Medic lost the small appetite he had for the calorie heavy food. 

“Yeah, he’s been strange these last few days. Didn’t want to say anythin’ but I’ve felt somethin’ off with him,” Demo said, and Scout nodded eagerly. Medic put a hand to his forehead, tired of his dramatic teammates. 

“I swear, if one more person has an emotional breakdown I’m leaving you all on the side of the road and driving back to Teufort myself,” The doctor groaned, and Heavy snorted in amusement. 

Demo took a few more meager bites before getting up to leave. 

 

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” He said decisively, and cleared his spot quickly before heading out. Demo was rarely seen in such a serious state. 

“Good luck with that,” Scout mumbled, and reached for the soda sitting in front of Heavy before the giant could take a sip for himself. 

“I wonder what’s gotten into Sniper all of a sudden,” Medic thought aloud, and Heavy shrugged, plucking his soda from Scout’s hands. 

“Maybe is lovers quarrel?” He suggested. Then it hit Scout. 

“Shit, I know what it is…” He groaned, putting his head in his hands feeling the dread and guilt building inside of him. 

Both of the men looked at him questioningly. He peeked through his hands and let out a whine like a child getting caught stealing from the cookie jar. He considered telling them or not, but figured they would find out eventually, and if anyone was going to hear a side of the story, he would prefer it be his own. 

“Hear me out, I didn’t really think about what I was doin’...” He started, and Medic began to smile. He was a gossip whore at the best of times, and this story had a promising beginning.

“When do you ever?” He said under his breath, and leaned forward to hear more. 

“So on the way to my place, that time when I freaked out and ran down the road… I was freaking out then because I may have possibly had a thought, about a person, and that thought made me do something that I wouldn’t have normally done under usual circumstances…y’know what I mean?” His voice got higher as he spoke, and the two older men gave each other odd glances. 

“Scout… what happened?” 

“I just told ya!” He yelled, his cheeks beginning to gain some color. “I didn’t really mean anything by it, and I told him that, but it really freaked me out and I got scared- uh no not scared, I uh got mad or something, and I had to get outta there so I left,” He rambled, cursing himself. 

Medic looked no more sure of what was going on then before. He sighed and gestured for Heavy.

“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” The man in question looked like he was going to burst out with laughter. 

“Scout likes Sniper!” He cooed, and Scout jumped at the words, mouth shooting open to protest.

“No I don’t!” At the obviously faked reaction Medic’s mouth dropped open slightly and then he laughed fully, high pitched and nasal. 

“Then why did you kiss him?” Heavy teased further, and Scout just groaned and put his head down. 

Medic smacked Heavy’s arm in amusement and calmed himself down. Scout looked back up eventually, embarrassed and nervous for what was going to happen. 

“Well well, since when have you liked men Scout?” Medic asked with only a gleam of humor in his eyes. The irony of this development not lost on him. 

“Hey it’s not like that! I’ve never really thought about this kinda thing before I guess… when it happened, it was just...really sudden,” He ran his hand through his hair and thought about it for a moment, feeling emotions starting to swell inside of himself, good and bad. 

“Is that why you ran like that and twisted your ankle? Because you kissed him and got scared?” Medic took his groan as a yes. “Well, if you’re the one who kissed him, why is he acting like this now?” At that, Scout looked to the floor. 

“Well… there may have been more than a kiss,” He blushed as he said it, remembering the moment. “Out in his van we kinda… made out a little I guess? Hey don’t give me that look!” 

Medic’s lips were pursed, he didn’t know whether to find this information hilarious or incriminating. On one hand, his and Demo’s relationship wasn’t exactly a defined thing, no one really knew what their situation was except for them and everyone involved were adults who can do what they want. But on the other hand, Sniper is in a relationship, and Scout was rather emotionally compromised for the duration of their trip. 

“Now Scout, I’m glad you’re trying new things, discovering yourself and whatnot, but did you ever stop to think that Tavish may not take this too well?” The doctor made a roundabout gesture with his hands, and Scout avoided his line of sight. 

“Yeah… it came up… But it’s not like this will break them up or anything, right?” 

\--

“You did WHAT?” The indignant shout was followed by a short pacing walk while Demo tried to sort through everything he wanted to say. He was hurt, angry, a touch sick to his stomach by it as well. 

“Why would you- with the lad? He’s gotta be what, half yer bloody age?! Are ye daft?” He sputtered, feeling his chest clench with hurt. 

“Mundy look, I know we’re not… you know, in a relationship… “ Saying the words felt awkward and childish. “But I mean really, how could you do this?! I thought I meant more to yae than some blushing virgin begging for a shag!” He let out a pained whine, feeling tears prick at his eyes, hating himself for falling for this man. The Sniper stayed silent, taking the verbal abuse he thought he deserved. 

“What the hell happened, why would you do this?” He wanted a reason, wanted something to blame, something he could pin the hate on to. 

“It was only twice. Once at the truck stop, he kissed me and then ran off. I told him to knock it off, that I wasn’t interested. The second time was when I found him in the van,” Sniper didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to lose him, but he wasn’t going to lie either. “I’m sorry Tav. If you hate me, I understand. Just… don’t hate the kid for this, okay?” 

At that Demoman scoffed, crossing his arms. 

“It was my fault, I shouldn’ta gave in to it,” 

“Did you fuck him?” The harsh words shocked Sniper, not used to hearing Tavish speak like that. 

“N-No. We just kissed,” He knew that didn’t change the fact it had happened though. 

They didn’t speak, Demoman looking at the ground and thinking, while Sniper watched him nervously. He had gotten himself into quite the mess. 

“Micky, I ain’t gonna lie. You’re breaking my heart with this. I feel damn stupid, and I don’t think I can stand to be in the room with either of you for a while.” Sniper wished he would yell at him some more, tell him how he hates him and never wants to see him again. He wanted to be fully punished for hurting a man he loved so much. 

“But I also know that we work together everyday, and I can’t get away from you even if I tried,” He sighed, clenching his fists. 

At the entrance to the truck stop, Heavy Medic and Scout were waiting, trying not to look like they were eavesdropping too much. Demo cursed, the sight of Scout bringing his anger back up. 

“We can talk when we are alone, back at the base. But until then… just leave me be.” He said, and walked off towards Medic’s van. The other three took this as an invitation to join the Sniper, awkward tension still hanging in the air. 

No one commented on what had just happened, and Scout just kept his head down and hands in his pockets. 

“Ready to go?” Heavy asked, breaking the silence. Sniper nodded with a face like stone, and turned to get in his vehicle. Medic exchanged a worried glance with his lover before heading off towards their ride. Scout didn’t want to go with either of them, but it looked like he was only left with the choice of Sniper’s van, so he cautiously got inside, not looking over at his companion. 

The engine came to life and they pulled away from the rest stop following the smaller catering van. Scout leaned back and kept quiet, assuming Sniper didn’t walk to speak to him, and he tried to fall asleep as best as he could. 

After spending the majority of an hour not sleeping, Scout straightened up in his seat and took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He gathered the confidence to look over at Sniper, and was surprised to find nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe he wasn’t as affected by this as Scout had thought. 

“Hey man, uh… I’m just guessing here, but did you tell Demo about what happened?” He asked, and Sniper’s grip tightened on the wheel. 

“Yes,” He answered, and Scout nodded. 

“Okay… and how did he take it?” 

“How the fuck do you think he took it?” He growled, barely keeping his voice below a shout. Scout recoiled at the sudden intensity, swallowing his sarcastic response. 

“He told me he doesn’t want to so much as look my way until we get back to the base. And then once we do have the time to talk, we’ll sort out what’s gonna happen,” Scout felt terrible for causing this, he cursed at himself under his breath and put his hands on his head. 

“Aw shit man, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break the two of you up, I wasn’t thinking. I gotta tell Demo it was all my fault, I shouldn’ta done any of that. It was a mistake, just a big dumb mistake,” he grabbed at his hair and closed his eyes, feeling sick with himself. 

Sniper glanced over at him and felt his anger simmer down. 

“Scout it ain’t your fault, so don’t beat yourself up like that. I’m old enough where I should’ve known better. I told him not to blame you, you didn’t know what you were doing. Hell, you were so broken up over what’s been happening I’m sure you were just looking for someone to help you feel better. I-I took advantage of that.” Once again the older man’s words seemed to comfort Scout, and he relaxed his tense body, looking over to Sniper. Then his face adopted a more indignant expression. 

“You… told Demo not to blame me for it? You moron, why would you do that? I was the one begging you to kiss me! Yeah I was sad as hell and angry as shit at my stupid family, but I can feel more than one thing at a time dummy! You didn’t “take advantage of me”, I’m not twelve years old and you’re not a creepy old guy with a van and a thing for little boys,”

Scout seemed to think for a moment before continuing. “Well, okay maybe you are an old guy who lives in a van, but I ain’t no little kid.” 

Sniper smiled despite it all. He disagreed with Scout, but something about hearing his opinion on the situation made the marksman feel better. He was content to sit in silence for a while longer, but Scout squirmed in his seat wanting to say more that was on his mind. 

“Snipes… d’ya hate me now?” He asked quietly. 

“No, of course I don’t hate you kiddo.” 

“Do you regret what we did?” Scout said, and the question hung in the air for a while, making it feel incredibly awkward in the small van. Sniper wasn’t sure how to answer, there were so many things to consider. In his head, he wanted to say that he regretted it. But there was another small part of him that disagreed entirely. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” The runner mumbled, dejectedly. Sniper groaned. 

“Scout, you gotta understand that either way I answer that I lose in this situation,” He replied, craving a cigarette and a stiff drink. “If you really need an answer then yes, I regret what I did to Demo, I regret hurting him, and probably losing him, and I regret going further with you than I should have... But I don’t regret looking for you that night, I don’t regret talking with you… and no, I don’t think I regret what we did,” He sighed, disappointed in himself for the way he felt, but happy he told the truth. Scout looked relieved. 

The ride continued on for a while without any interruptions, much to Sniper’s content. Scout found a few comics in the glovebox and flipped through them, chuckling every once in awhile. They were Batman comics mostly, but there was one issue of the Flash Scout had let him borrow a few months ago that the runner was pleased to find. He read it over again and commented on his favorite parts, Sniper agreeing and teasing him every so often. It felt nice to see Scout back to normal. 

Searching for something else to do, Scout went back into the box and pulled out it’s contents. Inside there were a few rounds for Sniper’s rifle, money and coins from a few different countries, some gum, a keychain with a sharp tooth attached, and in the very back was a small magazine, folded in half. Scout pulled it out and opened it, then snickered at what he saw. 

It was a porno magazine so old that the pages were beginning to fade. The cover had a man sitting shirtless just at the edge of a swimming pool. He was wet and smiling and looked around the same age as Scout. 

“You get lonely on the road or what?” He teased, holding it up for Sniper to see. The man turned and once he realised what it was he chuckled, telling Scout to bugger off. 

He kept it mostly for sentimental reasons, it was the first skin mag he owned, stolen from a sex shop while he was visiting the city with his father. He was sixteen and kept it hidden under his mattress for almost three years until he moved out, and then it graduated to his bedside table for a few years more. 

Scout flipped through it, finding it odd to only see men in this type of publication. He had plenty of these back home, but they all had pretty ladies in barely there lingerie. He idly wondered how many times Sniper’s used this particular copy. 

“Wow, I’m surprised I can even turn the pages on this thing. You’d think by now they’d all be stuck together,” He continued, and Sniper just rolled his eyes. 

“Haven’t looked at that thing in years kiddo. You know, when you can have sex instead you almost never wank. But you don’t know what that’s like now do you?” It was Scout’s turn to throw an insult his way, blushing at the accusation. He wasn’t a virgin, but he’d only ever been with women before, and certainly no time in recent history. 

As he flipped through it, he certainly felt some attraction to the images, but then a guilty conscience would come and banish the feeling. There were so many different types of men in the publication, skinny, muscular, tall, short, black, and white, something for everyone. In the girly magazines they all followed the same big boobs small waist formula. 

“You got any favorites?” He asked, and Sniper laughed at that, shaking his head. 

“Nah, I don’t really have a type. Though the bloke on page 22 is nice if I recall,” Scout flipped open to that page and didn’t see anything that really caught his eye. Not a whole lot of body hair, cute smile, he wasn’t even naked, just shirtless with a pair of white briefs and some socks on. 

“Really?” Scout asked, looking between the picture and Sniper. The marksman shrugged. 

“Well who’s your pick then?” He returned the question and Scout blushed, not wanting to give an answer. 

“They’re all ...nice,” He mumbled, fingering the pages lightly. 

“Oh that’s no fun, give us a real answer,” He was smiling, enjoying teasing the younger man. 

He looked on each page, trying to find the one he liked the best. After a few pages he realised that he didn’t like the younger looking ones, they made him feel inadequate more than aroused. Sniper watched him go page to page, face turning red as he tried to appraise each. Scout had a finger holding a spot in the first few pages, and he would periodically flip back to it to compare. 

His thumb ran across the page smoothing over a model’s chest and stomach. He told himself that it was okay to like what he saw, it wasn’t wrong. Mentally he reminded himself of what he had done a just few days ago and how easy it was to accept it in the moment, but somehow ogling naked guys in a publication for gay men seemed more perverse. 

The place he had bookmarked with his finger had an older man on it with a broad chest that wasn’t extremely hairy, but looked soft and well maintained. His body was attractive, but not unrealistic and his face had the perfect amount of stubble. Having the ability to grow a beard was always something Scout desired. Unlike some of the cheesier pictures, he wasn’t acting out a scene or holding any props. He was completely nude and looking off the the left focusing on something else. It looked simple and less sexual than others, he wondered if Sniper would think he was boring for picking it. Scout chewed on his lip before holding it up to show Sniper. 

“Him I guess,” The older man glanced over and grinned once he recognized the page. 

“I’m surprised, I thought you would’ve gone for something a little wilder Scout. But this guy’s sexy too,” Scout cringed back when Sniper called him sexy. 

“Man don’t say that,” He closed the publication and stuck it back in it’s place, then closed the glove box with all of its belongings back inside.   
“Well you didn’t pick ‘im for his personality. He’s sexy, ain’t nothing wrong with saying it,” Sniper knew that Scout wasn’t entirely comfortable with homosexuality. Even though he was worlds better than when they joined the team, he still got antsy from time to time. 

“Aw Snipes, stop sayin’ it!” Scout whined again. Hearing him say the word sexy was about as uncomfortable as it could get. It was like hearing his mom try and use slang. 

“Kid, two days ago I was lickin’ your tonsils while you tried to hump me through my clothes,” He stated bluntly. “I think saying you find another man attractive isn’t too far of a stretch.” Scout made a high pitched noise of embarrassment, covering his face. 

“I was not doing that,” He protested, and Sniper scoffed, grinning wildly. 

“Yes you were mate!” He began to mimic Scout. “ ‘Oh Snipes man, that feels so good, oh fuck, please gimmie more! I want it so bad, ugh!’,” He laughed at his own impersonation. 

“If I knew all I had to do to get ya to say please was rub yer cock I woulda-” He looked over and Scout was redfaced. The words died in his mouth and he swallowed thickly, regretting his words. “Scout?” 

“Fuck you,” He spat, and turned away from him, bringing his legs up to hug them in his seat. He trusted Sniper and now the man was making fun of him for it? Scout knew he was being slightly sensitive, but he couldn’t help it.

“Come on, I didn’t mean you any harm kiddo… I was joking.” He rubbed Scout’s shoulder with one hand but he shrugged it off. “Scout, I’m sorry, I shouldn’ta taken it that far…” He sighed, feeling like he was fucking up over and over again recently. The younger brushed his apology aside, so Sniper switched to a different tactic. 

“You know, I really did like it when you were talking like that… I was going to put an end to it until you started in with calling my name and tellin’ me you wanted me like you were… drove me crazy, it did,” His voice was set lower and he made sure to keep anything that could be taken as teasing out of his tone. Scout knew it was bait for him, but the words were too tempting to ignore. Slowly he turned, face still pink but less angry than before. 

“Yeah? Or are you just sayin’ that?” Sniper kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel the runner watching him for any signs of a lie. It was the truth though that he loved hearing it, the moans and the gasps. He’d never been with someone who knew how to vocalize so well. 

“Honest,” He said simply. Scout’s pride definitely got a boost, he even cracked a small smile thinking about it. 

There was another stretch of road where nothing happened. Barely any other signs of life passed on either side, and it was killer for anyone not used to sitting for hours on end. However between his jobs and his travels, Sniper could win a staring contest with anyone on earth. 

“Damn, how do you do this? I’m goin’ stir crazy man,” Scout had removed his shoes and was lounging in every way he could to try and get comfortable. 

“S’not so hard, I’d say it’s even relaxing. I’d prefer a day’s drive on an open road to a crowded room any day,” Sniper had just one hand on the wheel while the other rested on the center console. He let himself slip into mindless concentration on drives like this. 

“Well not everyone is weird like you. Some of us need mental stimulation every now and then,” He groaned in frustration and let his head fall back against the headrest in defeat. 

“Why don’t you tell me a story or somethin’,” Scout suggested, and Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

“What do I look like, your mother?” 

“Come on, you have tons of stories, you’ve been all over the world, would you throw me a bone here?” 

Sniper rolled his eyes and thought for a minute. He did have a lot of tales to tell, but most of them involved sitting in one spot for hours on end or sleeping in cheap motels and eating take out. Scout probably wanted to hear something like what Spy did, intricate missions, dangerous locations, action and adventure. 

“Wanna hear about how I met Spy?” He asked, and Scout smiled at getting what he wanted. 

“Sure, but I don’t wanna hear about you guys banging or anything, so you can skip those parts,” Sniper rolled his eyes again. 

“Well, I must’ve been around 23 or 24-”

“You’ve known him for that long?!” Scout interrupted, genuinely shocked. 

“If you wanna hear the story, let me tell it will you? Anyways, I had only just started getting into the Sniping business, I wasn't a big name, but I did my work well and I was professional about it. I had been assigned a bigger target than usual, some high profile drug trafficker making my client’s life more difficult. So I went to his warehouse near the port and set up my gear in a good spot while I waited to bag ‘im. Before he got there though, I saw someone slip inside the building. Usually I got my payment before the job, but this time my guy hadn't specified where to meet him so me being new to it all… I thought the sneak was my client trying to meet me before the hit. I ran down to the warehouse and soon as I took a step inside there was a knife at my throat,” Sniper pressed his thumb to the spot and glanced over to Scout, who looked like he was enjoying it so far. 

“You know Spy though, he likes to draw out his jobs and say all sorts of dramatic things… I think he was even worse with it back then. He started in telling me my life was about to be cut short, and finally noticed I wasn't the 5’4” middle aged Asian man he was going after. He asked who I was working for, and my dumb newbie brain tells ‘im. Apparently our clients were competitors, and both of them ordered the hit on our target. Well, he lets me go and tells me that either way if the target died, we would both get paid once he shows up dead.” 

“I was out of my element, I didn't do confrontations, all I knew was staying far back and picking people off from a safe distance. He told me to go back to my nest and if he somehow failed inside the warehouse, I could take him from the outside. I wasn't about to argue with a man who nearly took my head off, but before I could get out, our client was at the door. We hid, and I’m tellin’ ya I was scared outta my mind, thought it was all gonna end there. 

“He had a guard with him and they were only supposed to be in the building for a few minutes to okay a shipment so we had to do it fast. Spy went after them, trying to take out the guard first. I couldn't see a thing, but I heard a scream, then a struggle and Spy’s knife hit the floor. Someone ran off, and Spy called out for me to go after him. I jumped out of the hiding spot and saw Spy and the guard locked in a fight, but the guard had blood gushing from his back and mouth, Spy must’ve punctured a lung I thought. I saw our target running off and went after him, no weapon or plan, just pure adrenaline and fear. 

“I caught up to him easy, and he was screaming and calling for help, begging for his life... I only ever saw my targets through a scope, never that close. I never saw the fear like that, no one knew they were gonna die by me until they had a bullet in their head. But I grabbed him anyways, one arm around his neck and another holding one of his arms. I had no idea what I was doing, mind you. I held him for a moment while he grabbed at me, trying to get out. The man was like an animal, scratching me and jerking around. If Spy hadn't come up and put an end to it I’m sure he would’ve gotten away. He grabbed the man’s head and looked him straight in the eyes before…” Sniper made a clicking noise with his mouth and twisted his hand. Scout grimaced and grabbed his neck. 

“I grabbed my rifle from the roof and drove us to the next city before the blood started to dry,” 

He stopped talking and Scout leaned forward, expecting more. 

“What happened next?” He asked, and Sniper chuckled. 

“You asked me to skip that part,” He said and the runner made a face. “But after that... we went to America. I had a job there, and Spy was only in Australia for his assignment too. He showed me New York and we spent a few more days together, then we went our separate ways. The next time we met is when I started to really develop a distaste for Spies,” 

They talked a little longer about the past as the sun set on the open road, giving the whole world an orange tinge while they drove. Sniper flipped down the sun visor and cursed whoever designed this road for putting it in the direct path of the setting sun while Scout on the other hand admired the warmth and color that it provided, relaxing into his seat. Looking at the older man in the light made Scout wonder what he was like in Australia, if the heat and blazing sun was a nuisance or just a fact of life. The way he was lit so handsomely, his late afternoon stubble, the golden sheen of the light bouncing off his hair, it made Scout want to whip out a camera and capture this moment so he would never forget it. 

The enveloping light eventually faded though, and the sky replaced it with a show of equally wonderful pinks, purples, and blues. Shimmering clouds cast long shadows lined in violet stretching across the open road while the pair stayed silent, nearly in awe of the beautiful sunset they had been graced with. As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, and every vibrant color faded to a rich and humble blue, Scout had found Sniper’s hand and gently held it, amazed at the warmth he felt. It was almost like the man had taken in the sun itself.


	11. Chapter 11

About an hour before they reached Teufort, Scout woke up from his nap. He had fallen asleep after taking a turn driving for nearly seven hours, leaving his eyes throbbing and his ass completely numb. It was night time, but he wasn’t sure the exact time. The desert stars above them looked beautiful though. 

He sat partially up, wiping drool from his chin and making various groggy noises. Scout was an ugly sleeper and had never been a morning person on top of it. Rarely did he come out of his room before noon, and he was late to nearly every morning briefing. Scout would show up with his shirt inside out, one shoe on, and wouldn’t be any use to anyone before he guzzled some Bonk. 

“We’re almost there, just a bit longer,” Sniper said, and Scout rubbed at his eyes. 

“That’s…. pretty neat,” He said slowly, blinking a few times. Sniper chuckled at his stupor, glad his driving companion was finally awake again. 

Scout finally processed what was said to him and smiled happily, excited to finally be home. It was odd to have left your family and the place you grew up, and call somewhere else home. But that rickety old building in the dusty Arizona desert was his favorite place on earth. 

“I hope Respawn is fixed,” He mumbled, and yawned. 

“I’m sure Engie took care of it,” Sniper looked over at him and suddenly felt the urge to reach over and rub his head, the hair was sticking out funnily, in a sweet early morning kind of way. 

He didn’t though, he kept his hands on the wheel. 

“Hey, Snipes,” Scout said, and Sniper made a noise of recognition in his throat. “How did you get into the business, hm? When did you decide to do that sorta thing,” He asked, voice still thick from sleep. 

He wasn’t expecting the question, but it wasn’t a particularly harmful one, so he answered truthfully. 

“Well, I learned how to shoot on my parents farm. My Dad taught me so I could protect the sheep. And when I turned eighteen, I moved away to the city and got involved in some bad stuff pretty quick. I couldn’t make rent, spent all my time partying and doin’ drugs. Every job seemed pointless, made me wanna shoot myself.” He paused, and chuckled at his regretful past. 

“So, one weekend I take a friend of mine out to the desert to smoke and hide from our responsibilities, and he finds the old rifle in my van. I wasn’t trying to show off or nothin’, but I took ‘er out and shot some bottles, had a good laugh and went on with my life. A few weeks later he calls me up askin’ for a favor. This kid was a local drug dealer, and sold some bad stuff to a few people. Some bloke’s girlfriend overdosed and he was out for blood, wanted revenge. 

“I was apprehensive about it, and didn’t want any part in a murder, obviously. We agreed I would just shoot around his feet and scare the guy off for a few bucks. I waited in his apartment with my rifle out his window and they met in an alley to settle things. Before I could do anything though, he comes at my friend with a knife and I panic, shoot him in the chest to stop him. I killed him.” 

Sniper sighed, shaking his head. “I try not to beat myself up over it, he was a murdering drug addict. But I didn’t touch my gun for nearly a year after that, couldn’t sleep or eat. I hated myself. 

Scout felt bad for bringing this memory up, but didn’t know what to say. 

“The next time I did it, it was for the same guy. He had a feeling one of his clients was up to something bad, always buying drugs but never using them himself. He asked about the girls that bought from my friend and if he could meet them. So my buddy follows him for a while, and found out this bastard was kidnapping and raping girls who used drugs, and then injecting them with enough heroin to kill them so it looked like an accidental overdose. I had no choice but to accept, I couldn’t let a guy like that continue on hurting girls. 

“After that, my friend put my name out there to his associates, and I got a few job offers with benefits I just could not refuse. It got easier, the guilt stopped eventually, and then one day I got a visit from a little lady with a clipboard askin’ me to join Red Team,” He shrugged, 

Scout remembered when Miss Pauling had come to him with the same offer, one he just could not refuse. 

He wanted to share his own story in return. “I don’t know why they picked me for Red. I had nothing going for me... one foot in the jailhouse before she came with my ticket out.” Scout recalled. “I was never in any gangs, didn’t do anything too notable. Maybe a few small town fights, but I wasn’t trained or nothin’. Could be because in high school I broke a few track records, sprints, middle distance, long distance. Hurdles too. You know how much I love that stuff… But whatever the reason was, I’m sure glad they found me,” He said. Sniper had a feeling he knew who was behind the invitation, but he said nothing. Maybe he’d bring it up to Spy at a later date. 

“I’m glad they did too kiddo,” 

\--

Beads of sweat formed at the Engineer’s temples, and he groaned into the hot air of the workshop. He had one hand propping himself up on the bench while the other was resting on the top of Pyro’s head, wishing he could grab a fistful of hair. 

The rubber mask was pulled up enough so he could lean between Engie’s legs and lavish his lover in attention. The rarely seen mouth was opened wide, sucking and bobbing repetitively, making the older man shudder with pleasure. 

“Py, you feel amazin’ sweetheart.” He said, and the firebug smiled as well as he could. Engie’s dirty talk was more along the lines of sensual southern compliments than kinky lust driven smut. 

He switched up his technique to give his mouth a break and instead focused on laving his tongue around the head of Engie’s cock, then down the shaft and down to his base and licking back up again. His boyfriend watched him in a near hypnotic trance, panting and wishing he could buck his hips. 

“Are you gonna cum? You wanna cum in my mouth?” He asked, enjoying being able to tease and play with him. 

Engie turned red, swallowing thickly. He thought it was incredible to hear Pyro say those things, but he could never admit to it. He just nodded quickly, gasping when the warm mouth returned, and replaying those words in his mind. 

It wasn’t long before he moaned the other’s name and shuddered so hard the bench shook. Pyro happily swallowed all that had erupted from him, giving a final suck before letting go with a pop. 

Engie collapsed onto the bench panting, wishing only that he were allowed to return the favor. 

Pyro went to his side and kissed him all over, making the other laugh and squirm in his sensitive state. 

“Quit that!” 

“ENGINEER! I REQUIRE ASSISTANCE!” Soldier’s voice echoed through the workroom, and the two lovers shot up in surprise. “PLEASE!” He added as an afterthought. Pyro pulled his mask down and clicked it into place, and Engineer did his best to pull his pants up and hide what had just occurred. 

“Now just a second Soldier, you can’t just come barging into my workroom like that!” He chastised with a cherry face. The man walked over with not a care in the world, smiling broadly. 

“Hello Engie,” He greeted, seeming either oblivious or non-caring about his embarrassed state. 

“Hi Soldier,” 

Pyro grumbled from his seat on the floor, crossing his arms in a huff. 

“Band-Aid please Engie,” He held out a finger with a small cut on it, and the Texan sighed in frustration, praying the others got back soon. Soldier has been needier than a small child the last few days, he needed a break. 

Engineer took an adhesive bandage from his drawer and covered Solly’s “wound”. 

“Thank you Engie,” He said, and exited as quickly as he entered. Pyro got up and went to hug his boyfriend, feeling his frustration. 

Before five seconds had passed, the door opened again. 

“Soldier I swear-” 

“THE TEAM HAS RETURNED!! THEY ARE BACK!” He announced, and exited again. Pyro and Engie wasted no time in rushing out after him. 

 

\--

Soldier had picked up Scout in a great hug, cheering for his return. The younger man laughed and tried to wriggle out of his grip, happy to see his odd friend again. 

Medic filed through the door after him looking tired, but relieved to be home with Heavy no different than usual. 

“How was the trip?” Engie asked, giving his teammates a hug and clap on the back each. Pyro ran over to Scout as well, hugging him and spinning around. 

“Long.” Medic laughed, and Heavy nodded in agreement. Demo was silent, but Engie just assumed he was tired from the drive. He gave the bomber a quick greeting and looked around for a moment before asking him,

“Where’s Sniper gone off to?” Heavy, Medic, and Scout tensed up while Demo averted his eyes from them, clenching his fists. 

“Why don’t you ask Scout,” He said coolly, and walked off towards his lab, leaving everyone silent. Scout felt Engie’s confused look and wanted to be sick. 

“Ah, Ahem… Is our Respawn system up and running, Engie?” Medic said quickly, breaking the tension. The man nodded after a moment. 

“Yep, tomorrow morning it’s back to the battlefield for us,” He assured an clapped his hands together. “Well it’s good to see y’all got there and back with no trouble. I’m sure that Spy of ours will be show up before the fight tomorrow but for now, I’m about ready to hit the hay,” Pyro released Scout and bounded over to Engie’s side eagerly, taking his hand and dragging him away mumbling something that sounded like ‘snuggle time’. 

“I zhink I’m going to head to sleep as well, I can barely keep my eyes open,” Medic massaged his temples as he walked away, Heavy in tow. 

“So uh… how was your week?” Scout asked, and Soldier held up his Band-Aid covered finger. 

“I’ve been training! Day In and Day Out, nothing but blood, sweat, and tears from this patriot! Those raccoons really gave me a run for my money, they’ve got spirit I tell you! This team could learn a thing or two from those crafty crooks… ” He looked slyly around. “I’ve got a group training session in the works, but don’t tell anyone!” 

Scout retired to his room soon after that, dropping his duffel on the floor with doubts it would ever be put away. He laid on his bed, wide awake after his nap in the car but tired from his long journey. 

Drumming his fingers on his stomach, he laid staring up at nothing, feeling something unnameable. Similar to guilt, not quite regret, maybe just sadness with a hint of shame? Scout sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Focusing on the feeling only helped it get a stronger hold on him. The anxiousness was starting to creep in with every passing second and it made him restless. 

Within minutes he was zipping up a hoodie and lacing his shoes. After a week of not running, he stretched his stiff muscles before leaving his room almost twitching with pent up nerves he planned on running out. When he opened the door to step outside though, he was greeted by a surprised woman holding a clipboard and sporting a hideous purple sweater. 

“Scout, you’re up late,” She said, with a touch of a laugh. The purse on her arm had a large axe handle sticking out of it. She moved a piece of stray hair behind her ear and peeked around him. “Can I… come in?” 

“Oh yeah- yeah… Sorry ‘bout that. Just going for a … late night run,” He said, moving out of the way for her. The petite woman walked in past him and set her purse down by the door, then squinted at her clipboard in the dim light, before turning back to him suddenly in realization. 

“Hey Scout... I’m really sorry to hear about your brother. Are you… doing okay?” She said softly, without the usual work tone. The runner looked back at her and his mouth dropped open to deliver the automatic reply he’d been giving all week. 

“...Thank you, Miss P. And ah… I’m-I’m alright, I guess,” He muttered. Absentmindedly he had started playing with the hoodie strings, feeling out of place. 

“Yeah, that’s understandable considering everything… “ She spoke as quickly as usual. Scout liked that about her though. People said he was a fast talker, but Pauling was a mile a minute at the best of times. “I sent him flowers - I mean uh... I didn’t send your brother flowers, because he’s- you know… um I sent them to the funeral. I sent flowers to the funeral,” And awkward, she was definitely very awkward. 

“Yeah I saw, that was real sweet of ya Miss P… but I think the florist may have scammed ya, all that came was a bunch of spiky plants and some pine needles in a vase…” He said.

“Oh no actually those were aloe to symbolize grief, and cypress with wormwood for death, mourning, or absolute despair!” She said in a helpful tone. 

“O-Oh… that’s… appropriate,” He nodded. 

They said nothing and Scout kept waiting for a signal that the conversation could end and he could leave, but she continued glancing down at her hands and up and him and opening her mouth with something to say. 

“It’s fine, Miss Pauling. You don’t haf’ta say anything… “ She looked concerned by the words, biting the inside of her lip. 

“N-no, Scout it’s just that you never act like this… Usually you’d at least try and step within five feet of me, or offer me a piece of chicken or something,” She tried to lighten the mood but Scout barely smiled at her attempt. She didn’t usually joke with him, it was only work talk. With Medic and Spy she loved the occasional conversation, but as soon as Scout would try, it was only business. 

Past the fact that Scout was her sort of co-worker, he seemed to genuinely care for her, and she had developed a more platonic tolerance for him than before. Pauling hated to see him so devoid of his usual spirit. 

“It was good to see ya, but I’m gonna go for that run now… night Miss P,” Scout waved his goodbye, and she gave him a sad smile and a wave of the hand as he slipped outside and off into the night. 

\--

The full moon shone clear and bright against the flat desert landscape, giving everything a luminous glow in the dark night. 

However the light of the moon unlike the scorching sunlight of the day gave no warmth with it’s illumination. Scout’s breath came out in heavy puffs and the air made his chest feel icy with every inhale. If his heart weren’t hammering to keep up with the demand of oxygen in his veins, he would be shivering. 

It felt relieving to be going at such a punishing pace. His legs screamed out for rest and just beneath his ribs was a cramp that felt like a knife that burned with every movement. Scout panted, pushing further and further. He forced every ounce of energy into his legs, driving it from his restless mind and soul. 

Thoughts of his embarrassment fueled him. He ran as if he could run from his problems, as if he was close to escaping his deepest fears. Before he knew it, Scout was crying -- screaming out of frustration at the things he couldn’t understand and had no way to fix. 

He slowed to a halt when his legs started to buckle beneath him, threatening to abandon him on the cold sandy ground. He held his arms above him and gasped, then leaned over to rest on his knees. As the momentum drained from his body, and he managed to catch a breath between curses, he stood upright again with a numbing sense of release. 

Scout didn’t know what he was crying about, but he knew it felt good to do it. Whatever was pent up in him had been satisfied for now. 

He turned to start back towards the base, a little surprised at how far he’d went without meaning to. 

His pace was much more measured this time, he let himself relax into the rhythm of his own footsteps as he ran. It felt good to be back, the cool desert night felt natural despite its harshness. 

A wave of tiredness had washed over him as he got back to the door of the base. He noticed Miss Pauling’s scooter was still parked haphazardly near the entrance, and hoped for once that she wouldn’t stop to talk to him. 

Before he went inside he rounded the corner to see Sniper’s van parked out in the distance. The lights were on inside, but that was the only sign of life he could note. Something inside him was itching to go and bang on the door and talk to the grumpy marksman inside, but his better judgement kept him where he was. Scout spent a good while looking at it before finally heading back inside to the warmth of his bed. 

With his muscles and mind drained for the time being, Scout fell right to sleep.

\-- 

It was just past five in the morning and Soldier eagerly bounded down the hallway, pounding on the doors of his friends and teammates, announcing it was a battle day once again. He was greeted by an array of groans and threats to which he laughed and dodged incoming projectiles. 

In the kitchen Engineer and Pyro sat sipping a coffee and hot cocoa respectively. Pyro was nodding in and out of consciousness while his lover read the daily paper. 

“The team is awake! I have a good feeling about today! We’re gonna give those Blu one hell of a welcome back, I know it!” Soldier cackled, his tone several levels above what would be considered appropriate for the time of day. 

“Soldier before I remove your vocal chords, I suggest that you lower your volume,” Medic hissed. He slunk to the coffee pot clad in full sleepwear with Heavy close behind. 

“Haha! Isn’t it great to have the team together again!” Soldier bawled. He began to gather ingredients to make breakfast. It was the one meal he was still allowed to prepare. 

Medic sat across from Engineer, who gave him a cheery and much quieter greeting. 

“Mornin’ Doc. Sleep well?” Which was a rhetorical question when directed at Medic. Everyone knew that no matter how much Ambien he downed the night before, he would wake up grumpy and tired. 

The doctor gave a noncommittal grunt and took to huffing the steam billowing from the top of his drink. 

When Scout arrived at the breakfast table he was still in his pajamas as well, but besides that and an expected case of bedhead, he was more awake than anyone would have bet on. 

“Scout? Is that really you? Well I’ll be… out of bed before breakfast! Special occasion?” Engie joked, and Heavy chuckled along with him. 

“Yeah yeah, make your jokes hardhat,” Scout replied, smiling at the warmth in his tone. “When I’m not spending every minute of the day carrying this team on my back I actually wake up on time,” Soldier called out that Scout had the spirit of a fighting American in him this morning but Medic rolled his eyes at the whole thing. 

In a matter of minutes, a plate with several eggs and pieces of bacon was thrust in front of Scout, who downed it by the forkful. Soldier’s idea of a portion was however much comes in a container. This wasn’t a problem for Scout, or for the eating machine also known as Heavy. 

Before the giant dug into his plate of food, he placed a much smaller one in front of his lover with a kiss on the temple. 

“Eat breakfast.” He said, and Medic begrudgingly picked at his plate. 

“Man, I never thought I’d say this, but I missed your cooking Soldier.” Scout said, licking stray egg yolk from his thumb. The man was brought nearly to tears by Scout’s words, saluting him with pride. 

Quietly Sniper entered the kitchen and much like Medic he went straight for the coffee. 

“Mornin’ stretch,” Engie greeted, taking a bite out of his bacon. Unlike his teammates Sniper was already in his uniform, hat and all. Scout tried to be discreet in watching him, wondering how he was doing. 

With a cup in hand, Sniper leaned back against the counter and sipped at it, turning down Soldier’s offer of food. 

“Has anyone seen Spy?” Scout piped up, and there were a few negative responses. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” The man in question said, appearing at the door completely dressed and ready for the day. He adjusted his shirt cuffs and walked in while everyone rolled their eyes over Spy’s need for theatrics. 

“So were you just gonna wait there until someone said your name so you could prance in with that line? You absolute loon.” Sniper shook his head sadly, and Spy ignored him. 

The warm feeling of the bustling kitchen after so long without it left Scout feeling content. He knew soon enough he’d be knee deep in bullets, but for now he relaxed into the familiarity. 

After a second helping, Scout cleared his dish and went to get a tall glass of milk from the fridge, giving his best casual greeting to Sniper as he did so. 

The taller man returned the greeting with a grunt of a response, his aviators betraying nothing of his emotions. Scout had to remind himself that it didn’t matter if Sniper didn’t give him a special greeting or show any enthusiasm whatsoever. There was nothing between them anyways. 

Medic kept glancing at the hallway and whispering to Heavy, who nodded every so often in response. They were watching for Demoman. Scout hoped he wouldn’t show up, if only to save himself from feeling any guiltier in his presence. 

A thump echoed from the hallway and everyone in the kitchen turned towards the noise. It was Demoman, stumbling out from the entrance with bloodshot eyes and wearing the same clothes from yesterday. He smelled like booze and gunpowder, but noticeably more like booze. 

Engie cursed under his breath and Medic made a groaning noise. 

“I’ll go get the stomach pump ready,” He got up and started towards the med bay, pulling his robe tighter around him as he went. 

“Er… Morning Tavish.” Engineer tried. The bomber looked at him, narrowed his eye and grumbled out a response, slinking his way into the kitchen. 

Sniper stared at him, swallowing a lump in his throat awkwardly. At times like these he wished he had Spy’s cloaking device. 

“Have a good night did you? Send my condolences to your liver,” Spy chimed in, looking unamused by the state of his teammate. 

Demo responded to his snark, but the words were too unintelligible to make out. He refused to even look the way of Sniper or Scout as he tried to walk to the coffee pot. 

Before he could get too far, Heavy’s large palm caught his arm. 

“Let’s go to doctor. You are not well.” Demo ripped his arm away and shouted at him, saying he wasn’t a child and to leave him be. Halfway through his sentence however, his words caught in his throat and he turned slightly green. 

He swallowed a mouthful of stomach acid and alcohol that had come back up, being moments away from emptying the contents of his stomach on Heavy’s slippers. 

“Aye… To Medic,” He grumbled out, and Heavy nodded, essentially picking him up and carrying him out. 

As soon as they left, it was as if the room let out a collective held breath. 

“Now what was that about…” Engie murmured, scratching his head. Pyro shrugged. 

\--

It was clear that the extended furlough left each of the mercs restless, because the battle was fought with renewed vigor on each side. Scout could barely catch his breath with how the Blu Pyro seemed to be around every corner. Their Sniper had caught him off guard several times too, but he returned the favor with a little help from Spy. He was exhausted, it felt as if their team was fighting an uphill battle despite their energies. 

Scout’s ears popped as he burst forth into respawn, body aching and tired. The residual pain from the rocket he had just taken to the chest stung like a bitch. He leaned against the wall of respawn, breathing in slowly to try and regain his composure. 

Another whirring noise sounded from the machine and Sniper appeared alive and well. He had been backstabbed for the tenth time that day, and it was leaving him in quite a sour mood. He took a breath and started out again, before noticing Scout against the wall. 

“You okay?” 

Scout opened his eyes and was relieved to see his friend. 

“Yeah… just some left over pain. Solly rockets are a real fuckin’ shitty way to go,” He said, massaging his chest with one hand. 

“Tell me about it. I’ve got a knot the size of a fist from the amount of times I’ve taken it from the Spy today,” He pressed his hands into his lower back to try and relieve the pressure in his sore muscles. 

“Oh I’m sure you love takin’ it from Spy though,” He joked, cracking a smile. Sniper snorted in amusement, wanting to roll his eyes. 

“Nah, I was usually the one giving it,” He responded, and Scout groaned at that. 

“Today is freaking rough man,” Scout said as they walked out towards the garage door, going their separate ways. 

Heavy and Medic were too busy defending the intelligence to even think about making a push, and Solly kept getting gunned down by the Sniper every time he attempted to cross the yard. The enemy was three points up and with only minutes before the end of the battle, everyone knew victory wasn’t in the cards for the day. 

Scout was running out of the tunnel, his least favorite place to be, with no intel and what had to be a broken wrist. The enemy Scout had managed to flush him out of their base and was probably following close behind. 

As he ran through the tunnel, he noticed a figure slumped over in the corner by a machine. It was Demoman, but not one of his bodies before respawn picked it up. He was sleeping against a machine, his weapon in his hand. Scout stopped, unsure of what to do. 

“Fuck… Come on Demo…” He said in a near whisper. Footsteps echoed behind him and he knew the other Scout was coming. With his damaged wrist he couldn’t do much of anything, and he also felt a pang of anger at Demo falling asleep on the job. 

He growled in anger before leaving him there, getting more pissed off with each step. The countdown clock began and he slowed his pace to a walk, knowing there was no point in running anyways. Within moments the footsteps caught up with him and without turning around he felt a sharp pain to the side of his skull followed by his ears popping and waking up in respawn to an angry voice announcing they had lost. 

\--

A chorus of groans echoed in the showers as nine tired mercs made their way inside. They were all sore and low on spirit, desperate to rest. 

Scout chose a shower stall at random and immediately began to strip down, throwing his clothes in a pile on the ground. He got under the hot stream of water and nearly moaned at the feeling. He let the water run over him for a minute before reaching for the bar of soap.   
The soap was gone from its holder, and Scout cursed his luck. 

“Ay, does anyone have a bar of soap they ain’t using? This stall’s empty,” He shouted into the room. A few no’s came as a response before a curtain opened from the other end of the row and an arm holding out the bar of soap appeared. 

Shouting a thanks, he hopped out of the stall and walked over to grab it before noticing who it was who gave him the bar. From the opening in the plastic curtain, Scout saw Sniper standing under the spray completely nude and very wet. 

All of his thoughts suddenly halted and he felt his face getting warm. Sniper looked at him and made another gesture with his arm to say “take it already”. Scout reached for it, digging his nails in so he didn’t drop it, and took it. 

Sniper watched him, and glanced down, and smirked. Scout’s red face grew darker and before he turned to walk away he let his own eyes trail down Sniper’s body. 

Back in his own shower stall, Scout’s heart pounded against his ribs as he replayed what had happened in his mind. That chest covered lightly in hair and the slight paunch that suited him so well. He tried to remember what his cock had looked like, but the glance had been so sudden he couldn’t recall. 

While he washed himself, he couldn’t manage to rid himself of his chub. He wanted to just lean against the wall and beat off but his body was too tired to put in the effort. 

While he scrubbed at his hair with the harsh soap he fantasized about sneaking out to Sniper’s camper in the night and having that body all to himself. The gayness of it all mortified him, but he was starting to get used to it.


End file.
